Where are you going, my little one, little one?
Where are you going, my baby, my own?
Turn around and you're two,
Turn around and you're four,
Turn around and you're a young girl
Going out of the door.
There's more, of course. I'm working on a little "Turn Around" project, which I'll share on the blog when I'm finished, but for now this will have to do. Believe it or not, this is the only baby picture of Kate (her baptism) I have with me in NY. She has all of her baby albums, with pictures I must scan into my computer while I'm in Atlanta.
Anyway, it's not just the song that's set me off. As we get closer to her delivery date, I can't help but think that sweet, tiny little girl, born on a glorious day in May, is about to have a babe of her own.
I don't have a son, but I can't help but think that the mama's (soon to be grandmama's) experience of a daughter giving birth is a uniquely emotional one. This has no bearing whatsoever on the gandbabe in question - all the babies are dearly loved. But traveling through preganancy and childbirth with the woman you carried and gave birth to is a powerful thing.
I never for an instant forget what Kate was like as a newborn . . . as a toddler . . . as a spirited little girl. She's still all those things - a look, a laugh, a gesture is often the mirror of her much younger self.
And now she's going through with GrandBoy what I went through with her.
Turn around and you're a young wife with babes of your own.
No comments:
Post a Comment