Joy of My Life

Joy of My Life
Shirley Evans
English 121
Professor Jen Miller
January 20, 2013

Joy of My Life
I never considered myself blessed in anything, or knew the purpose of my life, until the birth of my grandson. Robert is my first grandchild and greatest blessing God has given me, and the center of my universe for which I give thanks every day. His life started with difficulties, but his unquenchable élan has brought joy to those who meet him.
Robert entered my life on Monday, February 23, 2009 at 2:28 in the afternoon; weighing 2lbs. 14 ounces and measuring 16 inches long. He arrived two months premature, and reminded me of a baby doll with wrinkled skin covering his tiny arms and legs. Set below perfectly arched blonde eyebrows were eyes so dark as to appear black, and opened wide to make them look enormous. A conical shaped head covered with platinum blonde hair made his sunken cheeks stand out; giving him the appearance of an alien. I fell in love the instant I saw him and my love grows immeasurably with every passing day.
Robert developed at a rapid pace despite being born prematurely. During a stay with us one weekend, I laid him on his back atop a blanket spread on the floor for him to roll on. He rolled onto his stomach raising his head up; arms swinging out at his sides with legs kicking trying to crawl. He reminded me of a turtle poking out of its shell, slowly inching his way off the blanket. To this day my daughter still calls him turtle after witnessing his attempt to crawl. Once he learns to walk, there is no holding him back; he joyfully goes through life with smiles on his face and laughter in his voice.
Robert is growing to be a precocious child who quickly turns independent. He stands proud with arms akimbo as he proclaims he can dress himself, and I settle back into my chair to watch him put his arms in the sleeves of his shirt, and tuck his shirt tails into his jeans. I am shocked to realize how quickly he is growing as he struggles with fastening his jeans, but is quite adamant in doing it himself; he asks for help with his belt only after trying to buckle it on his own.
One of the things I enjoyed teaching Robert was bedtime prayers. I have shown him how to interlace his fingers and clasp his hands together. Closing our eyes as we bowed our heads together, I recited his prayers as he repeated after me. He no longer allows me to say prayers with him, and he does not know all of the words yet, but ends his prayer blessing everyone he loves in the sweetest tiniest voice. He looks up at me with a smile on his angelic face and says “now it is your turn grandma.”
Pictures of Robert depict how cute he is, but in person he leaves you with a more accurate portrait of how adorable he actually is. Robert brings smiles and happiness to everyone he meets with his robust attitude. Sporting a child sized black Stetson cowboy hat perched atop his blonde head, down to feet encased with green and yellow John Deere boots, he exudes impish joy. He will nonchalantly say he is not my little man, but everyone’s little man. I do not argue with his statement as it is true. Robert loves everyone in his life and they love him.
People say the greatest joy of being a grandparent is spoiling the child then sending them home. I am no exception to this rule, although I never want to send him home. Time speeds by like a blink of an eye when I have him, and it feels like he just arrived when it is time for him to leave. It fills my heart close to bursting when he sees me and comes running with his arms stretched wide to throw his petite frame into my arms to hug my neck screaming “grandma!” The joy he brings to my life is truly a blessing from God above, and one I treasure more than life itself. I contemplate if having my son, who helped create my joy called Robert, has been the purpose for my life.