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Good news just never gets old

Let me first just say that I think my hearing is going.

Though to be kind to myself, there were a few other things that prevented my hearing the great news being shared through the cell towers on Inauguration Day.

My son called right around supper time. He is not usually the instigator of phone calls—he is quite busy with his family—so after a couple split seconds of trying to determine from his brief "Hi" that no one was hurt I responded.

Why is it that my stomach drops to my knees and I break out in a sweat fearful that something has gone wrong and I must rush to the hospital when the kids call? Anyway, everyone was happy and healthy, no need to rush to the hospital.

He had me on speakerphone so the grandson could talk to 'Gran'ma,' and my daughter-in-law was within talking distance of the phone. Let me also say that I love speakerphone, but it really didn't help my mild case of hearing impair-ness.

To further impede my ability to hear his message, I was on my way to Wal-Mart and was distracted by my passengers.

Three times he asked me if I was going to be shopping for baby clothes and three times I didn't hear him, partly because I was on speakerphone, partly because I think my hearing is going, partly because I was distracted, but mostly because my grandson would speak at precisely the moment my son was asking if I was shopping for baby clothes.

Not getting the response he anticipated, he finally asked if I was hearing what he was saying.

When I asked him to repeat it, yet again, he enunciated every word and spoke very slowly, as if I was his ancient great aunt: Are.you.going.shopping.for.baby.clothes?

Wait. What?! Oh, I get it! You are going to have another baby...EEEEKK!

Does that sort of news ever get old? For me these days it's way better than hearing from my doctor "you're pregnant!" which is physically impossible anymore, but which I loved hearing when I was in my 20s. The next best thing now is hearing that your kids are having a baby.

They are only a few weeks along and usually don't share such news this early in the pregnancy as my daughter-in-law worries she will miscarry, but they just couldn't wait to tell the parents. After having surgery last summer, she wasn't sure she could get pregnant. In fact, in pain a couple weeks ago, she was sure her condition had returned and she'd have to have a hysterectomy. Several pregnancy tests later—one wasn't confirmation enough, she said—revealed she was pregnant. Yay for our family!

A friend recently shared a 'grandpa' moment: his granddaughter, who recently learned to walk, was in another room when she heard his voice greeting her older siblings when he arrived for a visit. She came a-tearin' down the hall shouting "Bumpa! Bumpa!" arms open wide to be scooped up and loved on.

That is what I'm talking about when hearing such news. There is no greater feeling after surviving the loving and fighting and worrying of raising your own kids.

Without fail, every Facebook sentiment posted by my cousins and classmates indicates they are counting down the days until they will see these precious gifts we call grandchildren. And we thought our kids were the gifts ... just kidding! Of course our own children are gifts ... without whom we wouldn't have the grandkids. Yeah, it just keeps coming back to the third generation...

An aside:I think my granddaughter, who is 9, is also going deaf: struggling to understand her 2-year-old brother who was charged with sharing the good news with her, thought he said "peanut butter" when I clearly heard him say "big brother." Perhaps my hearing is just fine.

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