I have a two-and-a-half year old granddaughter. Isabella (Bella) Nicole Martin, born September 1,2009, at Balboa Naval Hospital, San Diego. She is my second grandchild, my first by blood. I've seen her a few times before Angel and Cory moved into Vacaville, while Cory goes to Bahrain for a year. I've seen her a few more times since then, but we are still on very tentative terms. In her entire life, I have held her once, received two reluctant hugs, and three or four "high-fives". She acknowledges me as her grandpa, and has called out for me twice, so it's just a matter of time before we get close.
In contrast Victor, my adopted grandson is an extremely affectionate little guy, who likes curling up with "Gmpa," but he's known me for most of his three years. I'm hoping to build that kind of relationship with Bella, and who knows, that may not ever develop, but I'm a patient man, I can wait. I told her last night, "One of these days, you and I are going to be great friend, and you'll wonder why it took so long." I got a hint of a smile, and a look that said, "Yeah, we'll see," but it's progress, and I fully believe what I told her. Someday...
I've said before, I never really knew a grandfather. The only grandparent I can remember was my paternal grandmother. Other kids, as I was growing up, had grandpas, and loved them a lot. I envied that my entire childhood. I watched my dad be a grandpa, and he was pretty good, as far as it went, but Dad wasn't a "hugger," or much of a "cuddler". I found the "magic" of hugs years ago, and Mr. Victor has taught me to be the latter. OK, maybe that isn't exactly true, but he re-awoke the desire to cuddle, at least.
We progress at glacial speed, but we progress.
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