A New Season

The aroma of oil and rubber assaults the senses of the customers waiting at Les Schwab for installation of their winter tires.  It’s an October event in Montana, as regular as Halloween and the golden transformation of the aspens and larches.  One more sign that the season is changing. 

I lean back in the oh-so comfortable chairs, and peruse my laptop, open to my last blog post in May.  Images of Sandhill Cranes, bees buzzing among apple blooms and minty green aspen leaves announced our daughter’s pregnancy with our first grandchild.  Now?  The Sandhill Cranes have embarked on their southward migration.  The apples have been harvested.  Aspen leaves coat the ground like a yellow carpet at an awards ceremony.  And Baby Boy joined our family on September 14.  Truly, a new season has begun.

***

Anticipation simmered through the summer months, like those heat waves you see on hot pavement – you glimpse them but then they disappear like a mirage.  Our daughter and her husband visited us in June, an opportunity to spoil her during one of the last times (for at least 18 years) that she would truly be free of obligations.  The custom-made Ya Ya's Garden sign remained as a visible reminder that Baby was growing as my garden entered its most vibrant months.

 

The August baby shower heightened expectations – what is it about adorable onesies, impossibly small diapers and cute baby books that just makes you want the baby to be here now?

We left Montana on September 4, with a calendar full of social engagements “back East”.  Visiting former work colleagues in Toronto.  Staying with one of our former neighbors in the Cleveland neighborhood where both of our kids graduated from high school.  Meals with former Cleveland workmates.  A housewarming party.  A Friday night high school football game, complete with the marching band – so many memories from our son’s period in the drum line.  We enjoyed it all, timed to ensure our arrival in Cincinnati on September 13, two weeks before the baby’s due date.  

We couldn’t have scheduled it better (and I thank God and our son-in-law, who ran stats on the most likely delivery windows for first-time babies).  We got the call while enjoying a final breakfast with our neighbors on September 13.  “Mom, we think I am in labor.”  It’s all we needed to hear.  We ditched our plans to visit the Cleveland West Side Market along the way and drove straight to their home.  A little more than 24 hours later, Baby Boy was born.  Seven pounds, eight ounces.  20.5 inches.  Pure perfection.

Baby’s early arrival meant I had four weeks with the new family.  I don’t think we have ever discussed (and laughed about) body secretions so much!  I loved hearing our daughter call me Ya Ya when talking to Baby Boy.  Granda would cry when holding the baby, and I might have shed a few tears of my own while observing the scene.  We helped in small ways, doing (never-ending) laundry and preparing meals.  The morning feedings, when I would bring her coffee and we would have quiet conversation, were treasured moments.  Daddy and I walked in the park with Baby Boy, a refreshing break for everyone.  It was satisfying to rock Baby Boy to sleep, re-awakening skills that have been dormant for almost 30 years (you never really forget that baby rock, do you?)  I couldn’t get enough of the little noises he would make while eating and sleeping.

The world revolved around this tiny being, and flexibility was the name of the game.  Everyone was learning, including the new grandparents.  It was harder than we imagined taking a back seat – 30 years of parenting does not always translate perfectly to this new role.  But the rewards are profound – the transformation of a couple to parents.  Sometimes, love is stepping back.

I am still in awe that there is a new being on our planet.  For all that I have personally delivered two new humans, it is somehow different when it is your daughter.  For all that I watched as the “bump” grew through the summer, it is another thing entirely to see a baby in her arms.  For all the decades I have lived, I don’t know it all.  I am not too old to learn something new, to take on a new role.  I am ready to embrace and enjoy what each new season will bring.

 

 

 

 

I am linking to LeeAnna's I Like Thursday - prompt is "Will you hand out candy this year?  What kind?  Will you wear a costume or something funny like cat ears or tiara or face mask?"

In our area of Montana, kids do not go house to house for trick-or-treating.  It is much more common for businesses on Main Street to hand out candy, or for a school or church to run a Trunk or Treat in a parking lot.  So, no handing out candy for us!  But it doesn't mean I won't put on a fancy hat or something, just for fun!

Linking to Thankful Thursday 

Linking to Mosaic Monday