There was me crying earlier over boobies whilst my grandparents experienced their last ever Thursday with P1!
My grandparents have been amazing. Since finding out I was pregnant at the young age of 15 they’ve always been there supporting me, through thick and thin. Whether it was help with money, words or just by being them, I knew I could always count on them. When P1 made her dramatic entrance 7 weeks early my grandparents were amazing. I could get lifts to the hospital and so on.
From a very young age, probably the same as P2 is now, she was babysat by my grandparents and when I started work they helped with childcare. At first it was three times a week, but as my Nan’s health deteriorated I reduced the days to just two a week. P1 has grown up with them, learnt their buttons, been guided through her development and my grandad has been both of our rocks.
He’s taught her to ride her bike, bought her sweeties, cuddles, read her stories, mopped the tears, fed her all sorts of food, taught her to pick up apples from the lawn, how to water plants, she’s learnt about a dialysis machine, made new adult friends and accompanied my grandad to the town hundreds and thousands of times.
It’s now got to end. Just like that. Finished. My big girl is going to school in three days time. She won’t get to see her great-grandparents like she used to. She won’t get quality alone time. Not really anyway. I feel sad. I can tell my grandparents especially feel sad. P1 was the thing that kept my grandad fit and active at 82 years old.
There’s a bond there that no one could ever compete with. More tears to mop now…
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