"There's nothing like it."
"You will love it."
"You will fall in love like never before."
Those are words others used to describe grandparenting to me before I became one.
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I can't say it's stronger. I can't say it's fiercer.
It's all I was for my kids and something more, and yet it's all I couldn't be for my kids. It's the best of me for her: my moments, my thoughts, my inclinations.
It's the ethereal majestic of life. It's the unexplainable captured by the heart's eye. It's gifts of fast forward moments watching a world of wonder unfold. It's being renewed to the miracle of the gift of life.
It's being drawn toward awe in a simple pleasure.
It's purpose and passion magnified without parent pressure.
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It's the humble trust to comfort. It's working to the truth through the tantrum: silencing the pain by bandaging the hurt, hugging the sorrow, and rocking to a calm together.
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It's seeing beyond the veil, seeing wonder in each new step, praising the fail because it started with a try.
It's stepping beyond the clutter of life, the mess, the dirt, the troubles to rest in middle of right now joy and dance with whatever balance and rhythm you have.
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It's slowing the storm of life to a pace of breathing.
It's discovering joy from being greeted with a smile, kiss, and hug for simply walking through the door.
It's seeing the hope in a future.
For every story my musing metaphors represent, this grandparent love is my openhearted surrender to a divine journey of seeing with a tender heart.
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