First Love

Outside the sterile nursery I stood, looking in. So many snuggly swaddled newborns asleep in little plastic cribs; my eyes hungered for only one . . . A nurse was bathing you, removing the remnants of your forming nest. Her face filled with wonder and adoration. "Is this one yours?" Soundless question behind glass . . . "So beautiful!" I had watched your head crown between your mother's legs; rapt . . . awaiting the first glimpse of your face. A mass of wet black curls and then your eyes; you were born and I was smitten! Unexpected, the rush of brand new love I did not know existed. First grandchild! You opened the door to a different world, love wild and fierce, protective and totally absorbed. Four more times that door has opened, love's arrow piercing my heart . . . when you hurt, the pain twists within me. You are the soul sunshine I crave, my grandchildren. Copyright, September 18, 2014