After the last car accident, I am more than grateful my father is watching over my oldest son. My dad fell in love with my first baby in a way I had never experienced. I am sure he loved my brother and me, but the grandchild, now that was special, and my father adored this tiny baby, who, of course, was very much like him. Including the stubborn streak, and the need to do his own thing rather than conform to societal norms.
My father died young at only 62, and I knew, from that moment, that his next job would be to protect this much loved grandchild. There is no other way to explain how the child could survive car crashes, rattle snake bites, and girls.
Who is watching over you? Who is watching over your children? My friend Sharon Hamilton writes about guardian angels falling in love with their human charges (Heavenly Lover)
. What about the grandparent? The mother? It’s an interesting idea.
And I’m grateful Dad took on this new career.