The other day as I headed out on the early walk I always take…in the silence of the morning I heard those familiar sounds a baby makes.
And I thought…isn’t this a wonderful way for a new day to begin…so, as those sounds drifted to me on the morning breeze, I stopped to drink them in.
A cry…a coo…a gurgle…these and other sounds arose…indistinguishable to me…but sounds, I’m sure, his Mommy knows.
That day also happened to be our eldest grandson’s 24th birthday…and as I stood there…on a whim…my memory took me back to a time when those same sounds…came from him.
And I found myself smiling as those sounds…24 years apart…blended together into a symphony…a symphony for my heart.
Later that day as we talked to Damien on the phone…I thought back to his first cry…and gurgle…and coo…and how in 24 years those sounds have transformed into Nana and PopPop…I love you.
And I hope those baby sounds I heard this morning at the beginning of my day…with a little love…over time…will transform in the same way.
I know what you’re thinking…in all these years we’ve watched his life unfold…if our grandson is 24…why don’t Deborah and I look old?
Wait! That’s not what you were thinking…you would not be so inclined…
You’re telling me that how young we look…never crossed your mind!
Well, that’s too bad for if it did the answer is quite simple…
and it’s a reason that often goes unsung…
The sounds our grandchildren make…
will always keep us young
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