A wise man I know would often challenge others with the question: “is it okay to love more than one?”.
For in most Western societies, loving “more than one” man or woman is certainly frowned upon, despite the clear evidence that “human nature” would have otherwise. Yet thankfully, when it comes to children, no one would suggest that a mother or grandmother should love only one! It is one of life’s great mysteries that somehow your heart expands not only to “make room” for each new arrival, but to positively embrace each new child with great outpouring of love.
My role as “Ouma” began on in early 2009, with the arrival of Isabel (the brave one), joined three years later by Matthew (the witty one). Blessed to have them living close by, I have watched their far-too-fast growing up with love and wonder. Matthew and Isabel have filled our hearts and our lives with adventures and discoveries. We learned that it truly does take a village to raise a child, and feel so privileged to be part of that village. Having missed out on having grandparents close by in our children’s early days, we have come to appreciate how much of a loss that was to them, and to us.
And now they are three – Alfred Ernest Hall – their long awaited cousin, born in March this year on the other side of the world. A “lockdown baby”. With significant restrictions in place through a dismal London winter, Rob and Jenna hunkered down through their pregnancy, with support from friends in similar situations.
Plans for both sets of grandparents to travel in turn, to provide support soon after the birth were scuppered – they were in this together, but alone.
And now, three months on, just like that, Ouma and Peter arrived!
“So what do you think of Alfie”, their friends ask. I have no words for this – he’s a baby, a tiny treasure, perfect in every way. He eats, he sleeps, he yells (increasingly testing his vocal range), and oh boy, when he smiles and laughs, it just melts your heart.
He snuggles, he splashes in the bath, he’s learning to love storytime (currently dominated by my favourites rather than his). He dances with Mum, who sings to him in French and English, and is calmed by Peter’s magical “what’s your mattering?” that’s still working on number three, I’m pleased to say.
Even more special than Alfie though – as if that were possible – is the love and admiration that grows for your own children, and their chosen partners, as you watch them grow into wonderful loving parents. Rob, the father is the best version yet of the many versions of Rob, the man. Seeing him with Alfie feels like the circle is complete, the mantle has been passed.
I chose to be “Ouma” in tribute to my own great grandmother, Aletta Petronella Catherine de Beer (née Bester), who lived to see her great-great-grandchildren, and was beloved by us all, as we were by her. Five living generations is a feat which seems unlikely to be repeated any time soon!
The original Ouma was always calm, always ready with an ear and a shoulder, and the biggest cuddles. She was wise, and well-informed about the world, even though she never travelled. She lived by the motto “stilbly is ook an antwoord” (keeping quiet is also an answer) – and while I aspire to “be like Ouma”, that’s probably a bridge too far for me. But meanwhile, I will cuddle Alfie (currently the cute one), and take joy from my regular videocalls with Isabel (the brave) and Matthew (the witty one).
rugbymother 