My first child, my first daughter, graduated from high school this week. I was flooded with memories. I remember the newborn baby girl. My husband and I sat next to the bassinet and just looked at her. "Now what?" That was the question we both had. Somehow we managed to survive the first few nights.
Looking back, it feels like time was set to fast forward. She cried, she crawled, she took her first steps. Preschool, kindergarten, elementary school. Sixth grade promotion. Junior high school, sports, dances, friends, fun. Eighth grade is over...time for high school! More activities, formal dances, proms, a driver's license, a first date, a boyfriend. Mood swings, constant texting, secret whispered talks with her friends.
The big day arrived. Who was that beautiful young lady in the blue cap and gown? She beamed, her giant smile (that money for braces really paid off!). The ceremony is over. She is poised, charming, accepting congratulations from family and her many friends.
I was happy and sad. In many ways my job is done. My husband and I raised this amazing woman. I hope she still needs me. Who am I, if not her mother? As she goes out to find her place in the world, I need to find mine. I do have another daughter, but this is the one that taught me to be a mother. I made all of the mistakes with her. She always forgave me. She thrived, she grew. We will have a special bond forever.
