Welcoming Davie
The first time I understood how important it was to me to have grandchildren was when I was first diagnosed with cancer. I lay awake at night thinking how long do I need to be here for? Initially it’s at least see both the children safely on to secondary school. Then it was leaving school. Then maybe graduation or meeting their life partner. It was always long enough to ensure their wellbeing and that they knew how much I loved them. And I gave myself that goal, whatever I needed to do to secure that I would. But the trade off ( in my strangely distorted thinking process) was that I would need to accept I would never be here long enough to be a Grannie. So many people are robbed of parenthood by cancer, at least I was more fortunate than that.
The first time I understood how important it was to me to have grandchildren was when I was first diagnosed with cancer. I lay awake at night thinking how long do I need to be here for? Initially it’s at least see both the children safely on to secondary school. Then it was leaving school. Then maybe graduation or meeting their life partner. It was always long enough to ensure their wellbeing and that they knew how much I loved them. And I gave myself that goal, whatever I needed to do to secure that I would. But the trade off ( in my strangely distorted thinking process) was that I would need to accept I would never be here long enough to be a Grannie. So many people are robbed of parenthood by cancer, at least I was more fortunate than that.
And as I celebrated each decade thereafter, I felt such gratitude for my survival. At 40 I completed a Masters and had a party for all those who had supported us through such hard times. At 50 I decided to grow my hair again with a small attempt at rebellion to views about what older women should do! At 60 I had breast cancer again but nonetheless managed to share célébrations with my family and friends and savoured every moment of our time together ( and my hair grew even longer!).
I also saw my step grandchildren, who are very precious and have given me such pleasure in my life, grow into adulthood as smart, compassionate and beautiful young women. I’m Audrey to them, not Grannie but that doesn’t mean the relationship isn’t meaningful. What’s in a name; it’s love that counts.
So just as each decade was a time I never thought I would have, becoming a Grannie this week has felt extra special. Nothing quite prepared me for the explosion of love I have not only for Davie ( love his name) but also when I see him with my son and daughter in law. I’m very aware of my physical limitations and could list lots of things I won’t be able to do with him. I’m not so much ye cannae shove yir Grannie aff a bus;I’m more "ye canne get yir Grannie oan a bus! " So instead I am trying to focus on what I can do. Last night as I snuggled with Davie I sang wee songs and promised him I would be there anytime to hear his stories, I would read him many stories. I would do my best to make soup ( with help) and perhaps have a treat tin like my Mum always did for his Dad and Aunty and their cousins. I even promised ( don’t tell anyone), if he sat nice and still, he could catch a ride on my mobility scooter on what I hope will be many trips to the Botanic gardens.
I think he smiled as I whispered to him. OK well maybe it was wind; but I do know my whole body smiled as we chatted. He is one lucky boy, surrounded by the love of his Mum and Dad, ALL his amazing and talented Grandparents, his Aunty Cat, plus wider family and special friends. If only all children experienced the security and care that brings, it would be a very different world.
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