Just over a year ago, on 6 December 2019, Imogen Ivy Hawes was born to Callum and Bronwyn. She was the much anticipated first grandbaby for Michelle and Rob, Ernie and Helen and Michael and me. Imogen had caused great discomfort to her Mum over the entire pregnancy. Even whilst in labour, Bron's heartburn became so bad she had difficulty concentrating on pushing Immy out into the world. Apart from a rather tender head from her last days in utero, Immy emerged to her joyous extended family and hasn't looked back since.
I adore newborns, as they have simple needs. Feed, change, burp and sleep. And bellowing. Lots of bellowing. I discovered that I hadn't lost too many mothering skills. From the first moment I held her, I responded by automatic rocking, singing and soothing. Much to my amazed delight, Immy locked eyes on Michael and sent out love arrows into his heart within a couple of days of her birth. And we became Nanny Kate and Grampy Michael.
She has blossomed during her initial year; like a flower bud opening into full bloom. She smiled with her Mum and Dad on New Year's Eve, at twenty-five days old. She was showing signs of her engaging personality at three months. From early on, she was curious, confident and easily content. During the difficult days of the COVID 19 lockdown, I would snatch brief moments with her and her Mum and Dad when I travelled to Perth for other reasons. We grabbed a couple of overnight stays briefly with them in Beverley in May and in July, the day before Michael's second surgery. We reciprocated staying with them at the end of September. All of these occasions have been so special.
We may not see her as often as we would like, however, Immy always rewards us with her dazzling smile, her Famous Raspberry Blowing, her over-the-top rendition of coughing on cue, her chatty vocalisations and of course, those beautiful eyes of hers gazing with love for all.
Her birthday party at Whiteman Park on Sunday showed her gorgeous nature to all and sundry. Adored by her six grandparents. Waving at a playgroup friend. Sharing her toys with other young party-goers. Glee written all over her face at being presented with her birthday cupcake. Her only protest at having her face and hands washed by Mummy. Happy to be kissed and cuddled and passed around until the very end.
I have always known that Hawes was a small town in Yorkshire, but having done a bit of research after a few hints from Ernie, I have discovered more of its origins. Hawes is old, established in the fourteenth centre as a market town. Hawes is a mecca for cheese, breathtaking scenery and history galore. Hawes actually means a "pass between mountains". Suddenly, a surname I never particularly liked has taken on the complexity of meaning, familiarity and affection.
To my darling granddaughter, Imogen Ivy Hawes, may your life be blessed with as many fortunes as the town that gave you your surname.
A little ray of sunshine has come into our world, a little ray of sunshine in the shape of a girl...
Look out world!
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