Grandma Again!

As always, it is a delight when Pam blogs on our site. Here are some musings from her on the occasion of the birth of her sixth grandchild. And check out this cute photo of Grandma and Miles when he was just minutes old!

On Saturday, April 25, my youngest daughter, Heather, gave birth to a beautiful boy, Miles Guthrie. At 6 lbs, 11 oz., he has dark blond hair. I know it will all fall out and he will be another tow-head like his father and two older brothers. He looks at the world with eyes that still don’t focus and looks like he is still in another space trying to figure out where he is. He is beautiful, of course, in that newborn kind of beauty — bruised and wrinkled with skin that will never be as soft again. I’ve participated in the birth of all six of my grandkids; Miles will likely be the last. I know that’s why I have been finally reflecting on my own mortality and on the “end of life” issues that have come up in this past decade. As I meet and love the new babies, I also grieve the same number of losses – a brother, brother-in-law, sister, uncle, my mother and my mother-in-law. At 64, I should expect this, but somehow, I still feel shock that I am old enough to see this, that I am old enough to have daughters in their 30s, mothers who were in their 90s and brothers and sister too young to die in their 50s and 60s, losing the patriarch of the Pressel family in his 80s. Facing my own mortality is daunting. There is never enough time to say and do all the things you want, or to accomplish everything you feel is important. I read all the messages about living in the moment and achieving balance, but still struggle with the daily challenge of finding time for everything. I feel the tug between the daily persistence of building a business, working 10 hour days and trying to be Grandma, be at the games, school plays, and just enjoying family time. Family and friends matter most. They give me the most satisfaction. I love looking at one of my grandkids and seeing myself fleetingly, or noticing that one of them has my sister’s hands, my mom’s voice, knowing that I and my loved ones live on in the babies makes all the struggles worth the effort.

In the end, all I can do is try to live a life that will keep me healthy enough to see who these kids turn out to be. I plan on seeing them grow, mature and, hopefully, seeing their own children one day. I doubt that I get to be in the delivery room again, but you never know!

In the meantime, Miles happily pulls me into this moment. I love being Grandma…again!