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the last grandchild

I was downloading some pics today to my computer that I took the last week and saw this one of my mother and Indiana. Mom had driven herself to our house that morning to see the baby. It was her first time to drive in about a month, since she’d had her stroke. She really wanted to see her.

I see so much in this photo. Mom was having a very bad day. The cancer in her esophagus was really hurting her and there were tears in her eyes most of the time, not because of Indy I think, but because of the pain. I can only imagine all that she was feeling sitting there holding our little one. Looking at this picture I’m reminded of the uncertainty of life. The scary beginning of life for one and the upcoming, potentially frightening ending of life for another. I see hope for a future that one of them never had… and sadness for a future that one them will never get to have.

Staring at them both, it just occurred to me that this is my mother’s last grandchild. Indy has come late in my life and even later in my Mom’s. The other grandchildren she has range in ages from 14 to 32. And then there’s little Indy… just a few days old, in the arms of a grandmother she may never get to know. Oh, we’ll all tell her stories about her Grandma Rita… about the life she lived.. and we’ll show her pictures. And we’ll get to this one. And I will smile and say this is the day your grandma got to look into your eyes and say “hello”. But inside I will cry, like I am now. Because I will know, on that day, at that moment, part of her was also saying “goodbye”.



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