Welcome to Grandbaby Blues

A place to share your blues, missing your grandbabies. Tell me how you keep that close bond of a grandparent. Share how you've kept in touch from a distance.

Sunday, October 25, 2015

October is Infant and Pregnancy Awareness Month. My beautiful daughter organized a community walk in remembrance of angel babies. She did a wonderful job, with a nice turnout of friends and family far and near thankful for the support and encouragement. She thoughtfully organized the event with small, but meaningful details.

I tried to support from afar...I fear I fell short of the mark with my meager efforts. I've read widely and am familiar with symbolic actions to release guilt, anger, grief or any crippling emotion, and I've always felt awkward enacting any such ritual. My release has always been in word more than actions. So, here is my attempt to capture the day; our balloon release for Baby Kenneth Michael Maurer.


Pink and blue globes
Released with full hearts
Ascending slowly at first
Into the pure blue sky
Ribbon tail fluttering behind
Lifting our grief
As they float ever higher
They begin to race
And bump together joyously
Like children playing
A lightness envelopes
A peace alights
Upon us

Sunday, February 15, 2015


My last visit to New York was a reluctant one. I wasn't sure whether I could make a difference, whether I was needed. I knew I must go, to just be there for my daughter. My own old feelings of not belonging, being on the outside, raised an ugly head. But this wasn't about me, so I pushed the feelings aside although I fought them the whole while there. I went to stand behind my daughter, just a presence for her to fall back on if needed. I quietly moved on the edge of grief, helping where I could, when and if needed. The doorbell rang constantly; friends with food in their hands and tears in their eyes. 
Now, the youngest grandchild rings the doorbell. He goes into the garage for whatever reason and becomes locked out; unable to open the door back into the house. Clad only in boots, no coat he scurries out and around the house to ring the doorbell. A different, happier surprise at the door. Both a blessing in the starkness of life.

Tuesday, June 17, 2014

Love is:

Good Housekeeping Magazine has a writing contest asking for stories expressing what love is...Most people probably think of all those happy occasions of celebrations. Love is so much more than that. Right now my perception of love is clouded in grief; we lost our newest grandson recently. Grief leaves you speechless. I remember a weekly newspaper cartoon that showed a cute little big-eyed baby, with a caption stating what love is, ie:  LOVE IS WET PUPPY KISSES. So, this is my attempt at expressing what love is, in poetry form. (Perfect medium for expressing our grief since the use of a few words carries so much meaning.)

Love is:
the privelage
to carry the seed of life
for 38 weeks
imagining his face
feeling his movements
his hiccups
his kicks
hearing his heartbeat
seeing evidence of his growth
in the expansion of
your middle
Love is:
the excitement
of preparing his place
his crib
his blanket
his clothes
Love is:
the anticipation
of his arrival
his introduction
to his brothers
and sister
Love is:
bestowing him
with Papa's name
to carry his memory
Love is:
the pain
of laying to rest
that child
that arrived without breath
Love is:
the strength
to go on
to live past
the empty space
he would've filled
Love is:
the loving arms
and prayers
and thoughts
of friends
and loved ones
who hold you up

Sunday, May 18, 2014


My Mama has many namesakes; there are many family members carrying her name. She left at a very young age;  My sister was the first to be bestowed with it; Karen Rose. My own daughter bears it also; Carrie Rose.  She brought beauty into my life when I thought I was ugly.  She's blossomed into a beautiful wife and mother, blessing me with more sunshine. The tradition is still alive, as our granddaughter carries her name as well; Makenzie Rose-our littlest Rosie.  Our newest grandson will be arriving soon, and he will bless many lives. He will bear his father's name, as well as his dearly loved grandfather (who also left us too soon). Hurry up little one. We need more sunshine.

Monday, January 21, 2013

A Tender Touch

I always visualized living near my children, just around the corner. I saw our home as a sanctuary for our grandkids. Our door would swing open, letting in the fresh air of youth and exuberance. I would drop whatever I was doing to shower them with love and attention. Spoil them rotten. It would be a place for them to escape their parents, and a reprieve for their parents for a few moments of peace. Life doesn't follow my wishes. I live more than 2500 miles from my loved ones. I visit once or twice a year. I fear they won't remember me, or feel the closeness I desire. This past Fall, I visited them for a glorious week of Autumn color. My daughter and the kids came to Syracuse to pick me up at the airport. Due to the late hour of my arrival, the kids stayed in the hotel while Carrie picked me up. Back in the hotel, I crawled into bed with my daughter and the littlest grandson. He stirred in his sleep and she reassured him that she was back. She added, "Gubba's here." He rolled and stretched toward me, reached up so tenderly and touched my face. It's been a team effort staying close. I guess we've managed.

Sunday, November 11, 2012

A Pot of Butterfly Wings

Near the end of my most recent visit with my grandkids, the temperature dropped to 27*. My daughter brought a big pot of geraniums into the sun room for the night. The next morning, as I had my cup of chai latte, I noticed my youngest grandson carrying a small scrap of something red clutched in his fist. When I asked him what he had, he replied, "Butterfly!". He is just two years old, so I was surprised at his perception and wondered at his experience with butterflies. I cannot think of anything that so rightly describes that velvety petal. I think everyone should have a pot of butterfly wings on their windowsill.

Saturday, October 20, 2012

New York

I visit my grandbabies every chance I get. They recently moved back to the North Country, upstate New York. Fall Break gave me the opportunity to visit them in their new home. I love upstate New York, and on my recent visit it presented itself in all its resplendent glory of Fall. I was enchanted with the falling leaves, fluttering in the golden sunshine on a gust of wind. I tried to capture it on a video with my phone-with no success. I was also enchanted with my two-year-old grandson. He speaks in 2 or 3 word sentences and makes himself well understood. What tickled me the most was his response when he is told "no": "OH MAN!" I laugh just thinking about him. Whenever I return home from one of my visits with my loved ones, I regret not having done all the things I intended to do with them while I was there. Then that leads me to a sadness that I don't live closer so that I can be a regular part of their lives. I dream of living just around the corner so they can walk over to see me anytime, and I would always have cookies ready for them...