Thereâ€™s nothing quite as sweet as a grandparentâ€™s love, and so the isolation of 2020 due to Covid 19 has left an unexpected pang of sadness for this group.
As soon as I read Maureen Wilsonâ€™s poem, I knew many you would relate to her words as much as I do:
I used to take for granted the feel of
little bodies wrapped in my hug.
I never pushed them away, but I presumed
they would always be there.
Was I ever wrong.
First it was hormones that broke the magic spell.
Those hugs that used to last from dawn until
the last eyelash fell on the downy cheek.
Now they would last only a brief few seconds
as the little ones grew into teens
and became too body conscious.
But those were still good hugs
and good times.
And they always ended in a
kiss on the cheek, forehead or hair.
Then March 10, 2020 came
and the hugging stopped.
Suddenly, grandmothers were
susceptible to disease, or worse,
they were carrying virus germs!
Now grandmaâ€™s hugs are dangerous
and must not be allowed.
By June of 2020,
grandmothers everywhere were hugging
their phones and their tablets,
trying to feel the softness of the babies and toddlers.
They were kissing hard glass screens
because they couldnâ€™t hold the love back
against the dam of contagions any longer.
In August, the tears flowed.
Grandmothers everywhere were dying,
not just of disease but of broken hearts.
Every holiday had been spent alone this year
and the ones ahead promise more of the same:
Endless days of old television shows
and maybe a text or a picture or
if God is good, a video chat.
But the videos are cold and
they have no smell.
Grandma didnâ€™t lose her sense of smell,
she lost the memory of how
her grandbabies smell.
Of soap and shampoo and dirt
and sticky chocolate frosting.
The sweat from the little boys
after they ran through the parkâ€”gone.
Grandma canâ€™t smell it and
she cannot hug it
and her arms are empty.
My arms ache from the loneliness
of this new life.
My prayer is that the new HUG-less life Maureen describes is temporary and we will be back to the smells and sights and feels of our grandkids.
Maureen is known as The Insurance Lady, LLC from Goodyear, AZ. Soon (I predict) she’ll also be known for her gift of transforming powerful thoughts to words. Thank you Maureen.