I was not one of those little girls who grows up dreaming of getting married and having babies. But when they came along, I loved my children more than anything in the whole world and couldn't imagine my life without them. They have provided me with moments of immeasurable pride and limitless love, and also unbelievable heartbreak. And in those very quiet, deeply soul searching moments when I've been alone with my thoughts and asked myself what I wanted to do with my life, what one thing would make everything worthwhile, and after which I could die and feel completely fulfilled and happy and peaceful, it was always that I would raise my children to be responsible, self-sufficient, loving, happy people.
And, I'm happy to say, I have had those days, days when I've said to myself or to my friends, "If I died tonight, I'd be a happy camper." That's a great feeling.
And now my babies have babies. And everything that I knew as love before, every laugh or smile that I thought was special, every little hug or kiss that I thought was the sweetest, every tear or frown that I thought would break my heart, was nothing compared to the laughs and smiles and tears and frowns and hugs and kisses of my grandbabies. There must be other words for these feelings. There must be some other chamber of the heart that only opens up when one becomes a grandma. There is no other explanation.
J and j, and S and k, I love you so much!