A friend of mine has a grandson, who is now about 12 years old. She has adored him from the start. Her son and his wife live quite close to her and, from the start, she looked after him regularly while his mother worked part-time.
Three or four years after he was born, his parents announced that they were expecting a second baby. My friend was a bit worried. "I love Matthew so much," she confided, "that I'm afraid I might not be able to love another one like I do him." We all tried to reassure her that love isn't limited and that it grows to fill the space available - and, of course, that was just what happened. She dearly loves both boys and is very much loved by her family in return.
My feelings, when I've been told another grandchild is on the way, are different. I feel that the more I love, the more my capacity to love increases. Additionally, the strong feelings I have for this unborn baby hasn't diminished my affection for Squiffany and Pugsley in the least.
You'll probably be thinking 'of course'. And yes, I agree. I am stating the obvious - but I'm only having a little emotional moment. We're all finding this waiting a bit hard to bear. I'm resisting the temptation to phone Weeza every day - spoke to her on Saturday and she emailed last night - she's doing some work for her father and she needed me to send her some information - but it's becoming unusually hard not to fuss. I don't fuss. I control my inclination to gush (look, you don't know what I'd be like if I let go) and it would be disconcerting for her if I changed now.
Um. There's no point at all to this post really. I'd delete it, but it's too late. We're expecting a power cut any time, so I've been publishing it as I've gone along, so feed readers will show it up anyway. They are having to check the whole system following the transformer explosion the Friday before last.
Do you know, I've got two meetings today? It's supposed to be the bloody holidays.
Hm. No, that's it. I'm too distracted and the electricity will go off any moment - they said 8.30 and it's already after 9. Forget I said anything at all, I'm talking nonsense.
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Oh, what's the problem? This is hardly Great Literature. I'd appreciate anything taken from here being acknowledged, and I might change my mind if I'm suddenly proclaimed as the Literary Queen of the Blogosphere - but I probably wouldn't. Do what you like, just as long as it doesn't extend to defamation of anyone, even me.
Actually, you want to pass off what I say as your own, I might even be flattered. Let's face it, who cares anyway?
11 comments:
I love a good ramble, go on have another.
Z, what's a pate please?
Keeping my fingers crossed for you. I'm sure all will be well.
I'm sure there was something I was going to say when I started reading this post, but by the time I got to the end, my mind had quite emptied itself.
Oh, so that's what it's like having grandchildren, is it? All pent up suspense waiting for the big day.
Hope all goes well - and soon!
The top of the head, I think, Simon, particularly a bald one. A pâté is potted meat or fish or vegetables, often cooked in a terrine, then unmoulded.
The thing is, I've discovered it's even more tensemaking when it's your daughter having a baby. Your mind makes more connections. And I was very distracted this morning. I quite see your point, Dave and there was nothing in my brain to start with.
It's nature. It's wonderful. You know, because you did it yourself once upon a time. It's not really a head / word / mind / writing thing.
And it's not your tummy that's got the baby in it either, so I imagine you're a bit further away from the action than your heart wants to be, right now.
This is all as it should be.
((((z))))
More sensible second babies are less inclined to hang about unborn so one doesn't have quite so long to wait. And there's always a more anxious element with a first.
Of course, I was a second baby. I was ten days late though. Pfft. I'm punctual now, when it matters.
Z, I love this post.
But it's a complete ramble and it's not even well written!
That's why I like it. You wrote like I think. :-)
Also, I always think the rambling posts say so much more than the well thought out, well written ones.
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