Today I drove my baby girl to her last day of high school. As I walked out of Brueggers with her rosemary olive oil bagel, toasted with butter, (and my fizzy Diet Coke), I had a flash of her in 1st grade all dressed up in a sweet little sundress I made for her with hand-embroidered flowers and ivy across the bodice, anklet socks, and Mary Janes. The sudden surprise of hot tears blinded me for a moment.
What now? This is a little reminiscent of that most difficult day a few years ago, but not the same grief. I'm very excited for her and am looking forward to watching her grow into what she is to become. However, I just want to hold my baby again and remember for a while.
I heard a song the other day with the phrase, "Just five more minutes." That's what I'd like right now. Just five more minutes of the hot, sleepy, 2-year-old napping on my chest. Or the 3-year-old who loved getting all muddy while dressed up in fancy dresses. After watching "Hello, Dolly!" one evening and adoring the costumes and swirling hems, she stood naked in the bathtub YELLING at me, "You don't dress me right!" Or the 5-year-old who wanted a wedding cake for her birthday party.
Meanwhile, I have brownies in the oven, fudge frosting at the ready, and cold Diet Coke in which to drown my tears in for a few hours before I pick her up from school one last time.