June 2,2026- It was another of those afternoons, in which thunder, lightning and torrential rain were the companions of those driving home from work, in the Dallas-Fort Worth Metroplex. What normally takes people 45 minutes, took 90.

My little granddaughter won’t be able to tell time, at least until she can recognize numbers on a screen. She does have an internal clock, though, and wakes up from her first nap in time to take a medicine, then wakes up from a second nap, in time for her second bottle feeding of the day. She also knows when it is normally time for her parents to come through the door, after work.

Tonight, that time came and went. I knew they were on their way, thanks to the “Find My” application on my phone. Hana is kept away from electronics, though, at least until age 2-and even so, phones may not be in her life until middle school, if then. Watching the heavy rain and hearing the thunder, she broke down in tears, calling for her mother. She feels safe enough with my presence, certainly, but there is already a deep bond between mother and daughter, When Yunhee, and Aram, for that matter, are gone longer than it feels to her like they should be, Hana is disconsolate. Her sighs of relief, when they come through the door, are priceless.

I once thought that infants were, essentially, egocentric and mainly showed emotion relative to their feeding and comfort needs being met. Having spent five months and two weeks with my granddaughter, I see an extra element at play. She has a remarkable concern for the three of us-maybe reflective of our love for her, or maybe something innate.