Oh, I miss my granddaughter! I'd love to be close enough to share even silly little days like Valentine's Day and St. Patrick's Day. I send cards but it's not the same. I have the sense of time passing swiftly and me missing most of her years when she is most available. Later it will be all peers, and I will seem a fossil, even if one who adores her. But this is all clinging. In the best part of myself, I am satisfied she is healthy and happy, and alive in the world. And I do get to see her every few months. So I am lucky. But my attachment right now is so strong, perhaps too much so. But there it is. I must content myself with planning a weekend soon and a few days at her birthday in April. We talk occasionally on the phone, but she is so busy, like all kids today, that it takes weeks each time to actually speak. If this is complaining, I'm sorry, but it is the way we grandmothers often feel. I know from discussing this with my friends. We treasure each minute we have with them and wish for more.
Does this mean I'm not enjoying my life? Hardly. I have a fun and interesting life. I have a practice that rewards me. I have dear, dear friends. I have a spouse who shares this grandparent love. I am grateful for this life given me, so blessed. I am afraid it makes me greedy. I think that can happen, if one is not careful. Each moment is precious, and in each moment she is in my heart. As are my kids and foster granddaughter and friends and husband. A full heart, I would say. A Valentine heart. Ah, I believe I've circled around to a little balance, a lot of gratitude.
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