Through the Looking Glass: Turning the Page

At a dark wood table at our weekly watering hole, I listen to my daughter tell me about her day. Her dark blonde hair is pulled back tight in a thin headband, her beautiful, creative hands showing remnants of paint and pen, tools of an artist's trade. Her day has been a challenging one; I'm grateful she chooses me to share it with. I'm holding on to these moments with her like precious cargo, knowing that in a month she'll be moving with her husband to Oregon for a grand new adventure. I couldn't be happier for them both.

Braided into my happiness is intense reflection, my breath taken away when I ponder the sheer magnitude of our relationship: My greatest teacher, she has taught me more about love, patience, forgiveness and gratitude than I knew was possible. She's talking. I'm nodding and listening and trying to keep up with the memories that are flooding in faster than I can keep up with.

In this moment, she looks like every age she's ever been:

She is three, running away from me--fast--down the hall as I try to get her dressed.

She is five, dressed as a penguin for the Kindergarten parade.

She is seven on the soccer field, loving to chase the butterflies more than the ball. She is 12, looking vulnerable and sweet as she walks into the Junior High dance to meet her friends. She is 15, brave enough to save my life. She is 22, walking down the aisle.

I catch my breath and refocus, staying mindful of the beauty in front of me. We eat edamame and sip cold teas and I get the honor of sharing the excitement and fears of my own new chapter with her.

I will miss these moments. No one tells you about how complicated and twisted and FUN the chapters of parenthood are. As she and I both turn the pages of our lives, I can't wait to see where our stories take us.

Life is good.