Going 'Down' to Gran's

 My grandson, Holden, is now almost six months old. He brings the same light into our world--his grandparents, aunties, his mommy (our Merete) and daddy--that my girls brought to my life beginning thirty years ago. Although I'm still learning to balance the loss of my Annie with the joy of "Golden Holden," each time I see him, I can feel my heart healing beat by beat. There is no cure, but there is wonderful respite.

Last month, the moment I'd been waiting for had arrived; Holden was coming to Gran's for a sleepover. Even after raising five girls, I was so nervous. I kept asking Peter, "Do you think we can do it? Are you scared?" He said, "Yes...Yes." I thought we were goners. I reminded him that he couldn't be scared when I'm scared. We had to have a plan. Then, it hit me. If Holden's very, very, very unhappy and just horribly miserable with us (and this is the miracle of grandchildren that others have been telling me for years) we can...DRIVE HIM HOME! Our daughter only lives thirty minutes away! Heck, years ago Peter drove one-year-old Asha around for hundreds of miles, spending hours in the mountains of Colorado, fishing, to help her stop crying. Surely this would be a cake walk.
We set up his portable bed in the bedroom across from ours, set up the room monitors, made sure we had diapers, wipes, sheets for the little bed, night light, white noise machine (a radio with static works great!), new batteries in the swing, etc. I bought a stroller so we wouldn't have to worry about forgetting to get his back home or vice versa. Already purchased were a bottle warmer, pacifiers, and extra bibs. This was fun...this I can do. Like riding a bike.

  Going to pick Holden up was like going to get my lottery winnings--well, I imagine that's what it would be like. We got his car seat in, buckled him in nice and snug with his little shoulder buddies on the harnesses like little angels whispering in his ear: "Don't worry buddy, we'll get you there."
I remember the map Peter drew when Merete was born outlining the safest route to the pediatrician's office for her two-week check-up. Not sure if that was a comment on my driving or just for baby safety...we felt that fragile. 
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First stop, Carter's:  new onesies, play outfits, a super-soft blue and white teddy bear, and of course--SHADES!

When we got home, some of our neighbors were outside. Peter went in to get the doggies fed, so I thought I'd take Holden over to see them.  I remember saying, "Look who I have!" Then, everything went into slow motion; I stepped in a utility hole--Holden and I were going down! My brain felt like it went into another gear...first, I thought, "NO!"  I felt my whole body resist the urge to throw out my hands.  Next, I thought...this baby cannot hit the ground...oh my God, please don't let the baby hit the ground. Somewhere between the middle of the fall and the thump onto the grass, I turned my body so that it was between the ground and Holden.  There we were; I was on my back and Golden Holden was on my chest wrapped in my arms.  Suddenly I realized six people were staring at me. All I could do was ask my neighbor, Margaret, "Did Holden hit the ground; did he hit his head?"  She told me, "No, no part of him touched the ground at all...are you all right?"  Well, after a couple people pulled me up, I checked him all over.  He had a look on his face that I'm sure meant, "Gran, What the ____?  That was fun; do it again!"

What a great boy. I've decided that the thing to do is NOT worry about something bad happening.  Oprah was right...you just make happen the very thing you're worried about, something to do with putting all that negative energy into the atmosphere.  When I called Merete, she said, "Mom, he's rubber; he won't get hurt. You're the one with two back surgeries, a recent wrist surgery--how are you? Are you all right?"  Who raised such a great daughter.  
So, I haven't lost my Gran title. In fact, now I'm SuperGran. But I did learn something. I'm not such an old, wimpy lady after all.  When it counts, I can do what it takes. 
I love you, Holden.  Next time, it's the sidewalk and park for us!