Being a grandparent is as sweet as strawberry birthday cake

Three hundred and sixty-four days ago I was talking with my youngest daughter. She was about eight and three-quarters months pregnant at the time. We were making plans to go somewhere the following week. I said to her, “I doubt this is going to happen, but okay.” She was adamant that she would have a November baby.

Less than twenty-four hours later, I got a text from my son-in-law. They were at the hospital, IN LABOR!! A few hours later their daughter, my granddaughter was born. Those plans from the previous day were canceled! This was much better.

A few days later they were home and I met my new grandchild. The picture at the top is me holding her for the first time. Even though she didn’t do a thing except lay in my arms, it was love at first sight. That’s the way it is with grandchildren. They immediately get into your heart and soul.

It’s now three-hundred and sixty-five days later. Today is Hana Brynn’s first birthday. I like to joke that the H is for me, but sadly, she’s named after her paternal grandmother, who tragically is no longer with us, except in spirit. Her name means ‘grace’, which is appropriate for both of them.

Watching her grow over the last year has been an amazing experience. They say you can see more growth in year one than at any other time. This has been no different. From sitting up and crawling to independently playing with a toy; every time I see her, it makes my heart feel full. Even watching her pout as I took away a sharp scissors makes you love her more. And now, she’s taking her first steps and working on a few words. In the last week, she’s learned to say “NO!!” Hmmm…like mother, like daughter.

Yesterday, we celebrated her first year on this planet with the traditional year-old birthday party. That’s strawberry cake you see on her face and body.

Happy first birthday my little ‘Hana banana.’ No one calls her that except me. Hey, I’m just trying to get her ready for when she starts school and all the kids tease her with that name. You know it’s going to happen. But, when it does…or when your brother beats you up…or when mom and/or dad make a rule you don’t like…you can always call me, your grandpa. We can go for cake and ice cream. I hope strawberry is still your favorite. Don’t worry…I won’t tell mom.