I'm the mother of my grandchild,
A precious curly-haired toddler who is somehow truly mine.
I grabbed him out of a potential disaster (actually, he was left behind)
To subject him to another one, where women are rearing their "grandbabies"
While daughters go make more...
But all his beauty, through and through,
Can't go unseen by adoring eyes.
I have those eyes. I do.
And, if I live to be 110
(and that would make him 57, the age that I am now!)
I'll still love being the one who saw him and all his beauty.
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