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Happy 21st Birthday, first grandchild By Linda Waggener Journal - August 12, 2001 - It's a boy! I groped for the phone, disoriented by the vague fear that comes automatically with a late night alarm bell, face distorted from having fallen asleep on page 186 of Cathie Pelletier's Beaming Sonny Home where Mattie's son, Sonny, is releasing the poodle he'd taken hostage. Stumbling over the coffee table during the second ring reminded me I'd been on the couch instead of in my bed because, at the normal ten-thirty-or-eleven going-to-bed time, I'd been wide awake and achy from the extreme heat and humidity of Saturday, August 11. The third ring began, "hello?" At once I recognized the cheerful voice of my daughter-in-law Amy saying she was calling from Pen's cell phone at that hour because, "We're on the way to the hospital!!!" Oh, my God! We'd been preparing for this moment ever since their Christmas eve announcement and all I could do was babble. Amy said pains were coming steadily at about five minutes apart and that she was getting scared. I should have had a positive, supportive speech all ready for her, after all she'd spent nine whole months studying, taking recommended classes, eating right and exercising to make the way as smooth as possible for a healthy baby. I shouid have said how confident I was that she was going to do fine because of all the work she'd done to be ready. Heck, I was a cheerleader, I know how vital team spirit is, but could I say a single "go team, go!"? No, all I could do was squeal, "Oh my God!" I gave thanks that her parents were in the car right behind them and envisioned their vehicles running red lights on the route we'd all practiced between their Freeman Avenue home and Owensboro Mercy Hospital. With the phone spluttering static in our ears, I finally made a coherent sentence telling her we'd get there as soon as possible. I went to wake my sound-asleep first husband Ed who ignored me until he finally understood that it was Amy and Pen calling and then he threw off the covers and jumped straight up and said, "Oh my God!' We hugged and celebrated and talked about what to do, wanting to be magically transported to the birthing room but knowing we had three hours of driving and it was the middle of the night. We figured we probably had six to eight hours of waiting and wondered if maybe it would be smart to get just a little more rest and then leave? I set the clock for two hours ahead and we went back to bed, but realized moments later that sleeping would not be an option. For all the things Ed and I might disagree on, and we do that a lot, this glorious time represented the things that bond us together and will keep us bonded no matter how far apart we ever get, this family we began back in 1969. So we were wide awake, we were charged, we were in agreement, the trip was begun. The fastest route from Columbia to Owensboro is the Cumberland Parkway to I-65 to Green River Parkway. The writer/dog Snoopy would have noted, "it was a dark and foggy night", and the closer we got to the Ohio River the thicker the fog became. Conversation over the 140 miles was as upbeat and mannerly as if we'd been out on a first date. Anticipation was already improving our relationship and the grandchild was not even through the birth canal yet. We were met in the waiting room by the beaming maternal grandparents, Ken and Kay Smith, who said that Jonathan Graham Waggener had arrived at 4:09 a.m. We were allowed to go in then and found Amy happily admiring her work, and Pen, rocking, cradling their newborn. Soft greetings took place, each set of parents gravitating to their own child first, making sure all was well, then the baby became the entire focus of six enchanted adults. It would be a few hours before I'd find a quiet moment with my daughter-in-law and hear her say those magic words, "would you like to hold him?" Others had tried to tell me about grandparenting but I still wasn't prepared. Never in my life would I have expected the raw, fire-joy of infinity that shot through me as the future draped himself trustingly in my arms, resting, growing, gaining strength in preparation to hold his place in that distant generation just beginning. It's all so clear then, the true meaning of life: relationships, family, doing what we can to support and contribute to the chain of humanity. So there's not much else to say as this new life journey begins, except to post this notice: "FOR SALE - everything I own; must relocate to grandchild!" (From Columbia Magazine August, 2001) This story was posted on 2022-08-12 09:09:36
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