Last week, I sat in a hospital hallway, clutching a gift bag, feeling out of place as my son Elias and his wife Maren welcomed their daughter, Willow. I’d knitted a blanket and skipped work to be there, but while Maren’s family and friends were welcomed upstairs, I waited. Elias later explained Maren was struggling emotionally, fearing judgment from my confidence. Hurt but understanding, I promised no pressure, just love.
I respected their space, dropping off meals and notes saying, “You’re doing great.” A week later, Maren invited me to meet Willow. At their home, I held my granddaughter, her tiny hand gripping mine. Maren admitted her struggles—crying, forgetting to eat. I reassured her that motherhood isn’t about perfection but showing up. We bonded over shared stories, and weeks later, Maren thanked me for waiting. That patience built trust. Love sometimes means stepping back, giving space for others to grow. In doing so, it forges deeper connections.
