As my 92-year-old Grandmother sat at my parents’ dinner table on Easter Sunday devouring three sweet potatoes with only her fingers, she laid her eyes on Mackenzie (her fifth Great Grandchild) for the very first time. Both just stared. Mackenzie didn’t make strange. It was a fantastic moment.
Mackenzie is fortunate enough to have three Great Grandmothers (two of whom she has met). And when I see them together, my mind is blown at the generations that separate Great Granddaughter and Great Grandmother. I think about how many decisions, events, and days have passed since each came into this world. How being a woman in this world could mean something completely different for Mackenzie than it did for any of her Great Grandmothers.
Generational differences aside, I know that she’ll love just as they always have.