Sunday, February 9, 2014

A Big Moment

When my grandmother talks about my grandfathers, I can hear the love in her voice that she had for both of them.  When she talks about my step-grandfather, the man that she married after my grandfather passed away, I hear something more. 

My step-grandfather was 17 years older than my grandmother.  To my grandmother, that was just a number.  To her, she had met a man who understood her pain, having been widowed himself.  But even more than that, she had met a man who wanted to take care of her and wanted to make her happy.  When she speaks of him I can hear in her voice not only her love for him, but his love for her. 

My grandmother had two young children, my father who was 8 and my aunt who was 6.  My step-grandfather had children of his own, but being 17 years older, they were already grown and out of the house.  My grandmother says that he looked at her children as an opportunity to do that all over again and he embraced them as his own.  He helped to raise two wonderful people in my father and my aunt.  He was the one there for all of the big moments... graduations, weddings, (grand)children.  My father and my aunt were both old enough to have memories and to have been influenced by my grandfather, but my step-grandfather's role was no less significant.  As difficult as it is to say, it was even more. 

I think that is the more that I hear in my grandmother's voice.  It's more than an appreciation towards him.  Actually, I am not sure what word I can use to describe it.  It's just something more.  I always picked up on that feeling from her even before I became a widow myself.  But it wasn't until after, that I could truly begin to understand that feeling. 

It takes a very special man to do what my step-grandfather did.  I know that there are men (and women!) that step up to the plate everyday.  But I know that in my grandmother's case, it was more than just stepping up to the plate.  He wasn't there because he felt sorry for a young widowed mother and her two children and he wanted to do an honorable thing.  He loved and adored my grandmother.  And he loved and adored her children as if they were his own.  That's what made him honorable.  He had a big heart and he opened it up to all three of them. 

I understand that feeling even more now than ever before because my son and my New Yorker have met.  I have seen first hand the interactions between the two of them.  And it's... incredible. :')
My son has been so happy during our times spent together.  He's chatty and silly and comfortable around him.  And my New Yorker, the 40 year old bachelor who didn't think he had it in him to be a good father... is a natural.  And not just in the way that he interacts and connects with my son.  But as a caretaker too... removing the knife from the place setting (even I still forget sometimes!), covering his head so he doesn't bump it on the table when he goes to pick something off of the floor, being able to divert his attention when a little tantrum is about to take place... just little common sense things that wouldn't necessarily come to a person who doesn't have children. 

Tuesday was a big moment day.  It was a huge deal for me to let my son into the picture.  It was a huge deal that my New Yorker wanted this to happen.  He was the one who first brought it up.  We discussed this weeks before it actually happened and I was made well aware of both his excitement and fears in meeting my son and why.  It's because of how he feels about me.  And the beauty that I saw with him and my son interacting, is a direct  result of those feelings. 

As far as my feelings go, it is love.  It is appreciation.  It's also more.  A whole lot more. 


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