Tomorrow I take my oldest child, my oldest daughter, to get her senior pictures taken. Yesterday, the doctor held her up to me and said, "It's a girl".
Yesterday, I held her in my arms and spent hours just taking in every detail of her face. Her beautiful, round eyes would stare at me as she nursed at my breast while her little hand clasped my finger. She would fall asleep nursing and I would recline the chair and we would sleep peacefully together. And we had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
Yesterday, my daughter would squeal with laughter and run into my arms as we played chase in the living room. Her sweet, contagious giggle would fill the room with music more beautiful and melodic than has ever reached your ears before. We rolled and laughed and played through the days. And we had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
Yesterday, the school bus pulled in front of the house to pick up my daughter for her first day of kindergarten. Her new backpack hung nearly to her knees and her excitement for school and new friends and learning just poured out of her. The step into the bus was so high she had to stretch to get in. I turned from the bus and cried as I headed back to the house. And we had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
Yesterday, we attended the first musical production T was in. She danced and sang and we sat so proudly in the audience not daring to believe that the adorable blond on stage was indeed our daughter. Her smile filled the room and her excitement enveloped everyone around us. And we had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
Yesterday, T began taking driver's education. She couldn't wait to get behind the wheel and I hoped I wasn't the one who would have to take her out driving. This young lady smiled and grabbed her permit and asked if she could drive. What happened to that little one I held at my breast? Suddenly, we no longer had a whole lifetime ahead of us.
Tomorrow, I take my oldest child, my oldest daughter, to get her senior pictures taken. She's a young woman now. A young woman with an easy laugh and a kind heart. I look at her and remember the little one who used to climb in bed and snuggle in tight with me. I look at her and think of the teenager who climbs on the sofa to snuggle in tight to watch a favorite show. I look at her and can see glimpses of the woman she will be. I look at her and suddenly, I realize that we only have moments ahead of us.
Yesterday, I held a sweet baby close to my heart and cradled her firmly in my arms, drinking in her wonder for what felt like forever. Tomorrow, I take my oldest child, my oldest daughter, to get her senior pictures taken and will have to loosen my grip a little more. Today, I realize that although we no longer have a lifetime ahead of us, that the moments that are ahead of us will be beautiful. They are beckoning to me to come closer. They are comforting me as my daughter grows up and away, "Have no fears, these moments will be the wonderful yesterdays that you think of when you reminisce. These moments are what make up a sweet lifetime of memories."
"Every cliche about kids is true; they grow up so quickly, you blink and they're gone, and you have to spend the time with them now. But that's a joy." Liam Neeson