Monday, February 22, 2010

don't blink...

The clock said 6:00pm and I could not put off the inevitable any longer. I picked up the necessary paperwork, kissed Emma and Steve goodbye and headed out to the van. With each step, the lump in my throat grew and the tears threatened to spill over. As much as I would like to postpone the meeting, I knew that there was no avoiding this next step; it was going to occur whether or not I backed out of the driveway or I ran inside and buried myself under my covers. Life was going to go on. So I took a deep breath, put the car in reverse, and I drove away. With each click of the odometer, each mile closer to my destination, the memories flooded my heart and I allowed the tears to fall.

With each tear I wondered how did I get here? Where has the time gone? Wasn't it just yesterday that I brought her home from the hospital? Didn't she just learn to walk and talk? I know it couldn't have been that long ago that I watched her, weighted down with her big backpack, get onto that big yellow school bus for the first time (and then follow it the mile to the school and secretly watch her get off and head into Kindergarten). Surely the baby we tried so long for is still my baby girl!

But somewhere between bringing her home from the hospital, the midnight feedings and the diaper changes, her learning to walk and talk, the dance recitals and birthday parties, I blinked.

I Blinked...

and my little girl stopped playing with baby dolls and started texting...

I Blinked...

and the years of her being home everyday and telling me about her day are dwindling.

I Blinked...

and I had reached my destination.

I Blinked...

and found myself standing in front of the large doors of Ryle High School-- holding registration forms for 9th grade in my hands-trying to hold the tears that once again were threatening to spill over onto my cheeks as I prepared myself for the inevitable.

I Blinked...

and my baby grew up!

I Blinked.