What a beautiful day yesterday as I sat with my brand new granddaughter cradled in my arms snuffling in her sleep. What an unbelievable joy to watch this little bundle twitch and sigh as she dreams of what one can hardly grasp, her experience so limited one wonders how the brain makes sense of what is happening. Every so often an eye will open to look. Is it reassurance she seeks or confirmation, does she already know on which side her bread is buttered or is she still trying to make sense of it all. The little kicks and a grimace or two when the wind gets painful, the reminder to her mom that she is hungry and a little bout of crying will bring the desired result. It's all part of the learning curve which never stops until old age, a testing process to see how people react and once learnt to produce the results we want, is stored away for future use.
The smell of a recently born baby is the smell of new life a special smell of innocence linked to our own protective instincts as we gaze down at this little person and wonder at the creativity that comes with each new birth. She looks like who, who's nose, who's mouth, will she have a temper or will she be a placid child, these thoughts rifle through your head as you interpret the genetic connection, now watered down but still there in the prospective character to come. Will she have red hair, will she be tall or short, will she be intelligent and go on to university like her mom or become a wanderer like her grandad. Will she become a Buddhist like her uncle, or a catholic like her grandma. Will she become a free spirit like mom and dad or will she conform to the norms of her day. Will she sail or glide, will she climb and walk the hills of Wales, will she cry at the singing of the Welsh anthem and feel the goose pimples rise at the sight of the Haka.
The limits and the heights are hers to find but as I feel her warmth flowing into me I marvel at the opportunity.
Sent from my iPad
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