SHAYNA PUNIm

I have had the good fortune to hold my grandchildren soon after they were born. I have known the pleasure and wonder of cradling them in the crook of my arm, while their exhausted parents grabbed some much-needed sleep or a sliver of “me time”.

I met Ramona, my first grandchild, the day she came home from the hospital. Holding Ramona felt both familiar and different, as I slipped into my new identity as a grandmother. Those quiet moments awakened memories of my own new motherhood and spawned re-born musings. Gazing at her tiny face I tried to imagine what she might be experiencing or feeling or thinking. I wondered who this unknown person would eventually become, and if I would be around long enough to find out. As time stretched on, I took out my iPhone and started making pictures of Ramona’s rapidly changing expressions. I have made similar pictures of most of my grandchildren, creating a small-scale family album that conjures the ephemerality and the mystery of being new.

Eliana, grandchild number six, was born in the summer of 2020. COVID kept me far away. I asked my son, Eric, to sit in for me and make photographs of his newborn daughter for my expanding family project. Feeling the weight of isolation and solitude, that summer I began stitching together the baby faces in my albums, a kind of photographic therapy that allowed me to recall precious memories of first moments. Working with the pictures helped me build a bridge across the distance keeping us apart. Arthur, number seven, arrived in late October 2021, and despite the risks posed by pandemic travel, I held him in my arms soon after he was born. And I made more pictures. Kenzo joined the family at the end of April 2025, and then there were eight.

Now that I am a grandparent, my mortality comes into clearer focus. I worry about the challenges our grandchildren will inherit and the fractured world my generation will leave behind. Thankfully, meeting each mysterious little person has reminded me of our capacity for renewal. The wonder of these first moments gives birth to possibility.