When I first fell pregnant, all of my and the other-half-of-us's grandparents were still alive. Our potential baby would have eight great-grandparents! Nine months later, one is sadly no longer with us, one completely lost to dementia, one in hospital with recently diagnosed dementia, one struggling generally after a successful operation to remove lung cancer, and one with a fractured pelvis in hospital. The fragility of life has never been highlighted so much to me. As we wait to welcome our new generation of family, the lights are dimming for people so important to us throughout our lives.
My grandparents have inspired me and taught me so much, and it makes me so sad that they aren't likely to be able to do the same for my children. Poetry, art, music, games and books from one side; DIY, gardening, walking and baking from the other. And above all, the amazing love and encouragement they have given us from the moment we were born. I just hope I can pass on at least some of these things to this person-to-be.
Yet among the sadness, there is still joy. The baby already has a series of cardigans and jackets and a wonderful bobble hat knitted specially by one great-grandmother, with more to come. It has hand-me-down great-grannie knits from when I was a baby. It has a nursery inspired by birds, a love of which has been passed down through almost all of the great-grandparents, including artwork and singing soft toys inherited from the other-half-of-us's 'Gampy' who died only a few months ago. And we can still introduce this great-grandbaby to seven great-grandparents! What an amazing thought.
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