Within two days of each other, momentous events. First, I become a geezer with no more questions, no dodging possible. Seventy. And then, two days later, my son and daughter-in-love–with pain, persistence and mutual caring–turn me into a grandmother, an experience I never thought to have. Tonight, one day shy of two weeks since her birth, I sit in my study and think back on meeting this wee beauty. Tiny, beautiful baby head, long elegant arms and legs, breathtaking fingers and toes and most of all indigo eyes as deep as the sea. All the cliches apply: watching her sleep becomes magic, watching her take a bottle from her mother, her father, her newly met grandpa becomes thrilling, feeling her slight body on my own chest and listening to the noises she makes as she eats takes me to a new place. Have you fallen in love, Meg asks. Oh yes.
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