And Now He's Three


I saw Cindy, his mother, standing on the porch with the phone at her ear, waving at me. This was the right house. I had a little book to give him for his birthday. It was about welcoming a baby into the family, since he had recently received a baby brother.

After hugging Cindy and seeing baby Simeon, my little Josiah was called. “Josiah, come! Grandma Jane is here!” I am always a little unsure what to do, and how I will be received by him, since I don’t see him often. But Cindy does a great job keeping me updated with news and pictures. Josiah was distracted by the joy of playing with his cousins and had no hugs for grandma at this time. “That’s fine,” I said, “let him play.”

I remember the time I went to the skate park to see him and he wasn’t distracted by cousins. Cindy saw me coming and pointed me out to him, and he came running to me. “Hi Grandma!” Grandma. It brought tears to my eyes to hear him call me that. I got a really good hug that time.

I sat down to visit with Cindy and the others there. Brett’s mother was holding the baby. Brett and Cindy are such good parents, and I thank God for giving them to Josiah.

I remember being at a church picnic soon after he was born, with Cindy and Rhonda. “Who’s baby?” many people asked.

“This is my grandson, and his two mothers.”

“Two mothers? How does that work?”

“Well, one gives birth and one adopts.” My daughter Rhonda fingered the mother and child necklace that Cindy had given her, exactly matching the one Cindy wore.

On the afternoon of his birth, the doctor had handed Cindy the scissors to cut the cord, and she handed them to me. “I think you want to do this,” she said.

I remember the sound of the peas burning on the stove as I wrenched out of my 18 year old daughter the devastating news. She was angry and scared. I was furious. All this only 15 minutes before guests arrived. What a climax to the long line of frustrations and dangers, a very tumultuous childhood indeed.

Reactive Attachment Disorder they said. It happens when a baby does not form a trusting bond with a caregiver. I remember holding her as a baby, and crying to think that she had already been so badly treated at only a year and a half, and now had no choice about what would happen to her. My poor little Rhonda.

Well, it was time for me to leave. I called Josiah to see if I could get a goodbye hug, and I did. What a blessing to be able to be a part of his life. And he calls me “Grandma.”

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