It was a Sunday afternoon when I first learned that my son and his wife we were expecting their first baby. That evening I jotted down the following:

On November 23, 2014

LB and I were joined by my kids and Mama for our annual Sunday before Thanksgiving dinner.
Except for a few mishaps [a wasp in the cider and paper in the pie] , dinner was excellent. Shortly after dinner Richard stood up and requested that all conversation CEASE so he could make an announcement. I thought nothing of it because Richard is Never Serious.
Not this time.
In his own special way, Richard announced that he and Emily were expecting their first child.
I didn’t think he was serious since he has teased about the subject in the past, so I didn’t over-dramatize.
But it became clear that he wasn’t joking.
I processed the information.
I wasn’t sure what to think.
Richard asked me if I was mad at him.
“No, Rich, I’m not mad at you.”
Mama broke into a hysterical laughter as she exclaimed “Kim is going to be a GRANDMOTHER!”
And, although [unlike my Mama], I did not show excitement in a dramatic fashion, there is one thing certain:

I’m far from being mad.

On November 24, 2014

at 3:18 PM I received a [group] text message from Emily which included an iPhone pic of what she described as a “little peanut”.
It was a first sonogram photo of the newest member of our family who is 6 weeks and 3 days old.
(I am smiling)
And again… {No, Richard] I’m not at all mad.

On December 12, 2014

I saw Richard and Emily at Grandpa’s 90th birthday party.
They had news: they told me that my grand baby is the size of an olive.
I replied, “I like olives.”

At some point it was decided that I would be known as “Glammy”.

In the weeks that passed, when I was asked about “my Glam-baby” I would happily answer with the information that I knew. Still I couldn’t appreciate the fascination with grand-parenthood as it was explained to me by those with experience.

This was soon to change.

Fast forward to

July 12, 2015

A large group of family (nucleus, extended, in-laws, out-laws, etc.) and friends (Romans, countrymen, etc.) gathered at the hospital for the arrival of a baby girl.

She finally arrived

…and guess who were the first of the group invited to meet her?

The Grandparents.

While I type this memory, I have tears in my eyes and a lump in my throat (the kind that comes with strong emotion such as gratitude).

I had the same reaction when she was placed in my arms for the first time.