(Katherine with Emma, 1997)
I am
the only parent I know who cried when her child was potty trained. But I did
and now, imagine how I am taking the next factoid up on my “my baby is growing
up” radar.
It is,
for the most part, too much for me to bear (or to bare) the fact that my
precious baby is to become, officially for the rest of the world – an Adult
tomorrow at precisely 9:16 AM.
Her
wisdom much of the time eclipses my own. She has poise and grace at her age
that most don’t have, ever. She is so smart I wonder how she could have sprung
from my womb.
And
nine months from now, a mere pregnancy time away, she will be off to live 3,000
miles away from me.
How do
other mothers do this?
The
other night she and I went to a local Blue Christmas event and I introduced her
to one of my beloved friends who is the mother of a newborn son. This little
boy is, like Katherine, a “subsequent child” – a child born after a stillborn child.
Have
you ever seen welcome incredulity before? It was there, in the moment I said to
my friend, “Have you met Katherine?” and the look on my friend’s face, the
recognition of “Wow – this child, this child-after-the-child-who-died…which
means my child, my child will live, too….and live to be a grown up young adult…”
In
that moment it felt like Katherine’s was able to see her whole life through my
eyes that she never, until that moment, seen… what a blessing her mere
existence has been to me.
A few
moments ago she looked at me and said, “Mommy, promise me you won’t go outside
looking like that.”
I
turned and looked at her with one eyebrow raised.
“You
look sort of like a bag lady.”
What
is not to adore in a comment like that?
My baby is growing up. I am not ready. I doubt I will ever be ready.
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