I am no grandmother, but many of my contemporaries who started their families earlier in life are experiencing this joy for first time. I imagine the euphoria of this special love relationship provides a certain sense of purpose that far outshines our more superficial anxieties about aging. Because I don’t have those little ones to help me mark time, I’m noticing that the years tend to sneak up on me, something I recently wrote about in my blog.
Now, when I remember my beloved, late grandmother, she is always the same age. Not young, certainly, as none of the best grandmothers can be, but vibrant and smiling and wise. Perhaps being a grandmother is the secret to stopping time…at least in a granddaughter’s eyes.