My dearest Hazel
We are now in mid-July 2025. Just two more weeks, and then you will literally be ten months old. You’ve been able to crawl for a week now. And we are already looking forward to you taking your first steps soon. Uncertain, with ups and downs, and that’s going to be so much fun!
Those first steps… they are also your first steps away from me. Away from us, your parents. They are the first steps into the wide world. The beginning of the end, as they say.
I don’t have grand poetic words to describe it, but as I speak this, I realize how special this moment is. For you, this is the beginning of your journey of discovery in that big, open world. And I hope I can guide you for a long time on your way to adulthood.
For me, the opposite is true: I am now happy with every step I still take. And I hope we can take many steps together. But one day, there will come a moment when they will be my last steps.
I was just scrolling through Instagram, and once again, I was struck by how smart those systems are. A little side note… I sincerely hope those systems are banned by the time you come into contact with them. They are so incredibly smart.
I think those algorithms and AI settings literally sense how someone feels sitting in front of the screen. I got stuck a few times on videos about small children, about grandparents… and yes, then you get fed. And I really sat there crying for half an hour. Crying with happiness. With gratitude for my situation.
Even though I’m sitting here alone in Mechelen, I’ve just done some rooms, Miranda is still working in Essen, yet those videos hit me so hard. They touched me deeply. But it was a positive release, one hundred percent positive.
I wonder when you will ever read this. Maybe when you’re eight. Or sixteen. Or twenty-five. Hopefully at multiple moments, each time with different eyes and from different thoughts.
Every phase in your life that you are now going through is a wonder for us to see. Every phase is new, exciting, beautiful… but at the same time also the last of that phase. You couldn’t crawl before, and now you can. You are now getting solid food. Soon the bottles will be gone. Everything changes so quickly.
That’s why I have decided to take care of you at every opportunity I get. Now it’s still babysitting. Soon it will be looking after you. And then… yes, I will keep “looking after” you. Until it becomes picking up and dropping off. And further, if we take it all the way… there might come a time when someone will have to look after me.
But well, that’s still far away. There’s still so much time. I’m 65 now. If I can add another 20 years, then I’ll be 85 – hopefully, I’ll still be a bit sharp, hopefully still aware of what’s happening.
And you? Then you will be a grown woman of 20. And between now and then, there is still so much beauty, so much positivity. For you, and for us together.
I am so glad you are here.
Big kisses from grandpa x