Great Expectations

I waited Friday night for my son and his wife to call with the news about the gender of my grandchild. My son's birthday was Saturday April 19 and Friday was the 14th anniversary of my Mother's death. I guess you could call it a day of mixed messages, but I choose to let the dead lie buried and focus on the new life, the bright dot on my family tree that blends all the DNA from my generations with that of the child of my heart, my daughter in love and law. I called my son yesterday and felt the tears in his voice as we talked later about distances. My firstborn is in a state of agitation as the responsibility of what he has set in motion overtakes him. He went to Seattle for good reason, his instincts correct that he needed to learn to make his own family, his own life. Now he second-guesses himself because the love of the unborn child flavors every second with uncertainty about his decision. He reaches for the touchstone of family, especially the Mom who was both parents for him for many years.

My husband and I went out to dinner and arrived at the unexpected early hour of 9. We both sat on the sofa channel surfing, anticipating the call. If we lived nearby we would have been outside the room waiting with a hug, but the news that came by phone was no less spectacular than if two mountain ranges, countless rivers, and thousands of miles of plains and prairies, didn’t separate us.

“It’s a boy.” “A boy!”

Now he hears the tears in my voice as I gush like every other delighted expectant grandmother from the beginning of time. There is more. The son of my son, from his muffled safe world, has moved against his mother’s belly against his father’s hand. The baby is no longer “Thumper” for the sound of the heartbeat they heard last month. He is he, the boy that will have their smile, their eyes, their unconditional love for as long as they live.

He repeats his wife’s concern “Joriel says we have to think of a boy’s name now.” His father and I give him the advice he has already heard before; don’t name a child you haven’t met. But I know she is a planner and will want to have this all sorted out beforehand, just as I know she and my son will wonderful parents.

They had more calls to make so I do not tell my son the things I need to say, but here goes. I am so proud of you, so happy with the choices you have made. They have not all been good choices, but you have turned the bad ones to gold and steel, enriching and strengthening yourself and those around you. But most of all I want him to know that I have stood in the place you find yourself, younger and dumber, with no money and an angry and unwelcoming spouse, and still, things came out all right. You don’t have to be a perfect parent, but you will have to be more flexible than you can now comprehend. As I have told you so many times, you learn more from a child than you teach. Just relax and enjoy him as much as you can, and I promise I will do the same.