Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt
Ten years ago today (my today, the 18th) my granddaughter Sunny took her first breath. On that day, she was pink, blonde and a bit squashed, as I remember – and of course, utterly gorgeous. Today she is even more gorgeous: artistically talented, intelligent, enthusiastic and sweet-natured, with long thick dark hair, eyes that speak and legs that go on forever. Nothing that anyone, on that first day, would have imagined.
And that is one of the things I find completely awe-inspiring about a newborn: however clever science is, however clear the genetic inheritance, every one of them is a surprise package. You may look at them and feel instant recognition, but ten – twenty – forty years later, you look back and realise you knew absolutely nothing. Inside that egg-like little bundle are the seeds of everything he or she will become, and what that may be is at that point a mystery.
The baby I held in my arms 44 years ago, for example – the one so like his maternal grandfather everyone laughed – is now six feet tall, a force to be reckoned with, a successful scriptwriter and Sunny’s father. The name we gave him after lengthy discussion now pops up on my television screen. Who’d have thought?
I have ten grandchildren, all intelligent, all exceptionally attractive. Posting their photos would clear me of all charges of prejudice, but even the thought of inappropriate greasy fingers on their screen faces brings me out in a cold grue, so it won’t be happening. But the eldest is almost adult, already appears elsewhere, and proves the point. In my opinion.