Bubbie, dearest–how do I love thee?
Let me count the ways.
I’d wax poetic (har!) about all your charms,
but don’t have enough time in my days.
A Bubbie devoted, you have been,
since the dawn of this baby’s time,
when your favorite little star
was a mere twinkle in your eye.
Before she was born, you knitted for her,
cooed to her, and planned
for the time that you could play “Potchy Potchy Hentele”
with her two pink, perfect hands.
You stroked my belly, proudly,
and kissed us as she kicked.
Singing, “Mommy loves the baby”
would always do the trick.
And then that April morning,
after a 3-day false alarm snafu,
your new best friend arrived,
at your lucky number, 2:22.
And from that middle-of-the-night moment,
you’ve relished in your love affair,
with the clone of (moi!) your first born,
(with the same exact lack amount of hair).
You were touted as the “baby whisperer”,
you were mocked for “hovering”,
you were thanked for your amazing help
and for the expert love-er-ing.
You taught me how to bathe my babe
(oh, you mean I don’t fill the tub with soap?)
you showed me by example,
you gave me strength,
and love,
and hope.
You know just which toys she will adore,
and you shower her with treats.
You help me every.single.day.
and never make a peep.
You’re always up for a dance party,
and on other end of the phone,
you never make me feel silly or wrong,
you never let me feel alone.
If this baby is anything like her mom,
(which she is in every way),
she’ll love you infinitely, amazingly and wholly,
(and be the one calling you 18 times a day).
You’re the consummate mother, the ultimate giver,
and I hope you understand
that Bubbie, as a grandmother,
you are the definition of grand.
So, thank you for the help, thank you for the hugs,
thank you for always always being here.
We will shine for you, always, as your little stars,
we love you,
Bubbie, dear.