Few memories in my lifetime have really burned themselves into my heart. When the church doors opened just before I walked down the aisle, stepping through the threshold into our first house, those little dark headed bundles being handed over to me in the delivery room. Hearing the screech of the bus doors opening at the end of my drive will be one more forever memory. She took my hand and said, “Mama?” I told her to go ahead, but then we walked the first few steps together, and then she was stomping up the bus steps. Her little face hasn’t looked quite so small in a long time, as it did peering at me through the bus window, not quite sure what to do. And then they were gone. At least we went those last few steps together, and when she just wasn’t sure, she said, “Mama?” This afternoon she bounded off the bus, at the neighbors house, with a huge smile on her face, and a backpack full of her activities from the day. She chattered on and on about all the things they had done at school. She’s a big girl now, and in-the-know-girl.  I don’t think the next day will be quite so traumatizing (for me), and I’m sure she will have an amazing year.  And it occurs to me that this is just one of many obstacles I will also survive. As the years go on, I will hold onto the hope, that if things get a little scary, she will email me, text me, call me, find me, “Mama.”

B.F.F.s

Checking on the loose tooth.

Mystic Ridge Crew