Sitting at the Firkin and Flyer cafe at BWI International Airport, precisely two weeks after arriving here to meet my first grandchild, Lucia Julianne Cammarata, I begin to process the emotions of the past two weeks.
I haven’t written one word since arriving, instead soaking in each and every moment, the immense joy coupled with likely most every other feeling known to man, but I won’t claim all of them. I have cried a river of tears both by myself and with my kids. Our connection is always meaningful and deep, but the arrival of this small soul shot us all into emotional overdrive.
As I wait for my salad, the tears continue to well up. I'm too consumed by my emotions to worry if anyone notices. The waitress, in her kindness, calls me “babe” as she delivers my salad. It feels like a warm hug, and I accept it with gratitude as I prepare to board my flight, when every part of my being wants to find an excuse to stay.
As I watch the endless stream of families pass by on their way to the gates, I can't help but smile. I imagine a day when my little Lucia will be a toddler, a middle schooler, a teenager. I catch glimpses of their conversations and study their body language, feeling a sense of warmth and love. I’m somewhat able to curb the tears, but my runny nose gives me away. Thank goodness for a solid napkin at my table.
There’s so much to share, to process, to raise my thanks to the heavens above for. This will take some time to write about here on Substack, and from there, undoubtedly the remainder of my life. I can’t think of a nicer way to spend my senior years.
Stay tuned for more “snapshots” from the last two weeks.
So exciting! Awesome!
Congratulations! 🎈💥👼