I am sitting in the lobby of the maternity center letting it all absorb that my son has had a son.
It has been a very long day with the labor process attended by two grandmothers, one great-grandmother, and of course, his parents. The boy of mixed heritage that is united in culture and sealed in love, entered the world at 7:10pm.
What do I feel about a boy coming into a world that may not love him as much as we do? Will they see that he looks like his German/Chocktaw/Cherokee mother? Will they see him with his French/Irish/African/Creole father? Will we get it right and have a world that will not try to put him in a cell when his parents are putting him at a desk? What do I feel in this moment of life entering?
My son has a son.
I am GranméTayé.
And the world says that we will go on.
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