It's pretty much all I can think about. I am afraid that it's pretty much all that I talk about. I have my plane ticket booked and my suitcase packed (in my head, anyway). The baby is one month away.
With gentle prodding from the recipients, I have been weaned from crocheting diaper covers and hats and small blankets and burp cloths. I have graduated to full sized blankets, large enough for two or three to snuggle within. I was very glad to have had that particular item with me today in class; my naked legs were covered by its loveliness and were much warmer than my bare shoulders. I was grateful, through my chattering teeth, to FlapJilly and her parents.
That's just one of the delightful emotions I'm feeling these days. There's anticipation and excitement and wonder and awe, of course. There's also more love and explosive heart-bursting than I've ever experienced..... at least since the wedding. I have none of the discomfort of late stage pregnancy and all of the joy.
I am a lucky person.
Leaving the last session of our course at noon, my classmates smiled and wished me well.... shared my joy.... hoped my daughter and son-in-law enjoy their new addition.... and laughed at the every changing array of projects I'd worked on over the month. Everyone loves to talk about babies, it seems.... or maybe I'm just attracting those who do.
Whatever the answer, I'm enjoying it tremendously.
I'm writing postcards to FlapJilly, and laughing at myself as I channel Daddooooo. Just as he did for me, my daughter is saving my postcards. I have vivid memories of reading the words on the back of the postcard from Piccadilly Square sent by my Grandpa to me... all the way from London.... just to me.
Zero Mostel is singing Tradition in my head right now.
Brother's family is hosting a Shiva for his wife's mother tomorrow. Marilyn was a no muss, no fuss woman, whose fall was more a slide and whose death was neither unexpected nor tragic. Still, it's a mommy....... and we're back to that whole circle of life thing that began with Little Cuter and her very teeny, brand new life flying East for my mother's funeral.
I've been feeling G'ma's presence a lot these days, perhaps because FlapJilly is just about fully baked and G'ma's work there is done. I'm enjoying the image of her greeting Marilyn ... wherever mothers go to rest.... and the two of them keeping watch over those of us still here.
Because keeping watch is what mothers do, and is, I think, what I'm trying to accomplish by crocheting the world around my granddaughter. I want to be there, holding her, protecting her, keeping her safe from harm and evil and loud noises in the middle of the night. I want to put smiles on her face and love in her heart and I want her to know only sunshine and roses.
I know that's impossible and it's probably not even what's best for her. That doesn't stop me from wanting it.
She's my granddaughter.
That says it all.