Poem: Making me a Grandma

I read this poem about being a grandma. It definitely sums up what it feels like. I don't know who composed it, but I liked it enough to pass it on.  If it's yours feel free to let me know in the comments.

“Making me a Grandma”

—The day you were born,

I thought my heart might burst.

I had loved before—

as a daughter,

as a wife,

as a mother—

but nothing prepared me for this love.

It is different.

It is softer,

but somehow stronger.

It is love without rush,

without the weight of doing everything right—

it is love that simply sits in the moment

and soaks it all in.

When I hold you,

I hold the years I’ve lived,

and the years that will outlive me.

I see the little girl your mother once was,

running barefoot through summer grass.

I see the man you might become,

kind-eyed and steady-hearted.

You are every answered prayer

I didn’t even know I had prayed.

You are proof that God’s goodness

doesn’t just visit once—

it lingers,

it blooms again,

it spills into the next generation.

In your giggles,

I hear the echo of my own childhood.

In your hugs,

I feel the strength of every hand that has held mine before.

And when you look at me with those eyes—

oh, those eyes—

I see the future

and the past

all at once.

Some people say grandchildren are the reward for growing old.

Maybe they are right.

But you are more than a reward—

you are a blessing so big

it swallows the word “blessing” whole.

And if the Lord lets me,

I will spend the rest of my days

telling you how much I love you,

praying over you while you sleep,

and thanking Him

over and over and over again

for making me a “Grandma.”