It’s that first eye-to-eye that strums the heartstrings of this gramma.
After a diaper change, Eliot was lying out on his changing table. For his educational entertainment I shook a black and white double handled rattle for a while, then we talked. Or rather, I talked. I love a captive audience – especially when it’s my non-verbal grandchild. (As they grow verbal I become pleasantly captive myself!) Eyes glued, I asked Eliot where he might like to go, now that he’s been here for just over a month.
Maybe Hawaii – certainly an excellent choice, but best wait until Volcano is done erupting. Of course I had to put my foot down at my mention of bodysurfing. No bodysurfing for one so young. Completely and utterly out of the question.
Next – Africa to ride a lion. Though previously Eliot had most assuredly advertently (some might vie for ‘inadvertently’, but grammas know better) bumped, then (brilliantly) grabbed hold (okay, perhaps it was more of a gramma-aided finger wraparound) the rattle’s handle, I suggested he might want to wait until he had thoroughly mastered grasping in order to successfully hold fast to a lion’s mane.
I’m afraid, though, my next (and last) suggestion both broke our mutual eye-to-eye rapture and, far more concerning, my grandson’s heart. I should have known better – but who could fathom the depths from which these new beings emanate? Yes – I suggested Alaska and polar bears. Just the mention of it scrunched his eyes right up – his visage severely reddening – and sent forth peals – no, not bell-like peals – more like unoiled door hinge ear grating peals – of despair.
I understood. Before arriving to give Mom and Dad a respite that morning, I had heard NPR’s report on the Alaskan polar bear’s dire situation pertaining to the severe progression of climate change. Admittedly bowled over by my grandson’s innate understanding, I did my very best to console him. But truly, how long can that last in one so young who experiences such deep and vast sensitivity?
What’s that? until the next feeding?