Yesterday, was our darling Arabella’s birthday. She is a year old, impossibly so, but she is.
From my first glimpse of her, on a nippy day in March, I was entirely smitten, my heart stretched by leaps and bounds at the sight of her tiny face, the sound of her first cry, the touch of her skin against mine. We didn't know each other, but I was her Memaw and she was my cupcake.
Weeks went by, slowly at first, for it seemed the days and nights of colic would never end, but then they did and the household breathed a sigh of relief. In time, her mommy returned to work and the months picked up the pace. We celebrated Easter and the Fourth of July, Thanksgiving and Christmas, then the arrival of a brand new year.
I tell you the truth. It all happened in the blink of an eye.
Now it is March again, and I’m left with that bittersweet task of reminiscing, remembering our first year—me and my darling granddaughter—and how our time together unfolded. There was rocking and singing and carrying her through the house. There were soft mornings, and quiet moments spent gazing out the window. There were attempted selfies and the scrambling of eggs together in the kitchen. There was discovering the wonder, and aggravation, of talking toys, and a daily inspection of the people in the photos on the refrigerator door. When the weather was nice, there was a stroll to the mailbox, and the gentle melody of the wind-chime, which always brought a smile. There was piano playing and the reading of books, bath time and play time, nap time and church time.
She has changed everything—the sun, the moon, the sea, and the stars. I look at nothing through the same eyes as before. She is the sound of music, the reading of poetry, her smile, the cure for everything, and I'm holding onto each moment as best I can, for this is the briefest season of all.
I don’t have to tell you that life comes with no guarantees; there is no promise of tomorrow, no promise about what may happen tomorrow. None whatsoever. But no matter what another year brings to me, as long as there is breath in my body, my granddaughter will have someone praying for her, someone rooting for her, someone cheering her on and loving her unconditionally, no strings attached.
As I write, my heart is full to overflowing. Not a day goes by that I don't think about how blessed I am to share the company of Arabella Marie.