I can't believe it. My child is in Grade 5 - the last of her elementary years. I remember when she was in the Beginning Class - the ripe old age of three! With a red jumper and wee little love puffs in her hair, she happily made her first journey into learning and began some of her closest friendships. It was only 2 - four hour classes a week and she relished every moment. Ever the social butterfly, she continues to this day to be the peacekeeper and convener of her class. In her little world, everyone should get along and as her teacher told us several times, she is necessary because she is the glue that holds her class group together. That's her role.
And it all began many years ago.
So I will drive her into school tomorrow in the first outfit she has picked for herself to wear. She has always deferred to me to dress her but this year is a big one of independence and she wants to pick out her outfit. I can't wait to see what it is.
She is so excited, she has made her lunch already and says she'll get up at 6.
This is going to sound strange but I am somehow in a melancholic mood. The TV is playing Sirius satellite - I must admit I love satellite radio... and it is on "The Bridge". Slower songs from the past 30 years or so. Right now, John Denver. It is making me feel like my life has passed me by at incredible speed and Kami only makes it move faster and faster. Every year has become quicker in it's completion and I am coming to realize that our relationship will evolve and change as she grows into the person God created her to be. We have such a special bond now. She is somewhere between a little girl and a young lady. Her body is changing and she pushes back, gently, but exerts her need for self expression. All the while, hanging onto my hand and needing to cuddle at night with me and listen to her say her prayers. When does that stop? I hope never but I know someday.
So my job as a mother bird is to nurture this blessed soul and then gently push her out of the nest to let her fly away on her own. And all with the hope that she will return over and over again and share her love and joy of life while I listen anxiously and proudly of her journey through womanhood.
Oh my gosh. I do want to do it all over again; slow it down. Take each moment and savor it. Stop and breathe in the beauty of each step. Her sweet little baby voice. Her baby powder smell. The way she scrunches up her nose when she laughs. The way she laughs no matter whether she falls or actually makes it up the two step slide. The sheer innocence and utter ecstasy of her pure life - where every second is a new experience.
If we could only bottle that life would be so much more fun wouldn't it?
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