This is the part I really should have led with, a intro to your grandson. Every day you would ask me to email a picture of Noelle to you at work. It was one of those things that truly still brought you Joy.
You were a phenomenal Grandma, never doubt it for a second.
You knew I was pregnant for a son before you died, I remember you emailed me that I’d love having a son. You were 117% percent right, I love him in a special, deep confusing way I could never properly explain.
His name is Caedmon David, after an Old English Monk / Poet and after Dad of course.
His birth went wonderfully smooth, he came out kicking and screaming and didn’t stop until he was bundled up and warm.
He nursed like a champion was a happy little guy, so long as he was warm and fed.
He has the biggest blue eyes and the blondest hair, some days he looks like his Uncle Brian but most days… he just looks like Caedmon.
He’s as stubborn as he is adorable and parenting him is fielding 20 tantrums a day. He likes things just so, right now. He loves to “help” me cook and he’s a
little type A, which comes in very handy at “pick up clean up time.”
I think he gets this from his Grandpa V. I remember how much Dad hated the concept of the “junk drawer” which really wasn’t fair. Everyone needs one.
Caedmon has a major sweet tooth and at Noelle’s 3rd birthday party he learned the word cupcake just so he could beg for a second, and then a third treat. We were all so impressed by his efforts he got 3 or 4 cupcakes by the time the party was over.
He gets his way with people a lot like that. His sweet preschool teacher tells me that even she struggles to correct and discipline him, he’s just that cute and flirty.
He’s been able to work his blue eyes and blonde brows since 6 weeks old, no kidding. This guy will be a heartbreaker unless properly trained.
I wish that you could have met him, I don’t think that he would have saved you or changed anything, but to have a few photos of him laying in his grandma’s arms would be so lovely.
Anyway, I have no idea how much you know or see, somedays I hope it’s a lot and then when I see take in all the brokenness here I hope that you’re oblivious.
But I thought, no matter what you’d like to meet your grandson.
Love you, Miss You,