Last Tuesday night, after the rest of the household were in bed, I sat in the living room doing nothing important, just savoring the day and enjoying the quiet.
In a few minutes, through the baby monitor, I heard a tiny voice calling out, “Memaw.”
My daughter hadn’t been in bed long. I knew she wasn't asleep, but she’d had a long day at work and had only an hour or so earlier just returned from a draining after-work event. Still, she's the mom and she handles evening issues, so I stayed put on the couch. Meanwhile, the little voice called again, “Memaw.”
After awhile, I texted Anna: “Want me to get her?” to which she responded, “She’s calling u 😊”
With that go-ahead, I went and scooped up my darling granddaughter, along with her favorite baby quilt and her beloved stuffed lamb, Ba-Ba, and carried the lot of them to the rocking chair. In the darkness, we sat and snuggled for the longest time, neither one of us saying a word, just the squeak of the rocker breaking the silence, her head nestled against my neck.
When you’re a grandmother, you notice every single adorable thing about your grandchildren, which is why I couldn’t stop staring at the two little feet sticking out from under the quilt, and one tiny hand clasped gently around my wrist.
As we rocked, I breathed in the richness of the moment, just the two of us holding onto each other, feeling the love, and making a memory for me to cherish always.
Had someone appeared holding one-million dollars, ten-million dollars, and said, “Here, you can have this money, but you have to leave this moment,” I would have waved them off without any hesitation.
I imagine you feel as I do, that no amount of money can buy such moments, that they are priceless, and that whenever they come to us, we should be careful to not let them slip by as ordinary, for we don’t know if they will ever come again.