The Middle of a Season

growing-up-2-1024x540I can sometimes see the hint of a young woman in you. It takes only one new article of clothing, or a mannerism, a laugh or a figure of speech. For the first time, I see the woman in you emerge often enough to think I’m not being crazy. She arrives, sometimes lingers briefly, but then vanishes again. And I remember how small you are; how briefly you’ve been on this planet.

It’s the middle of summer. You’ve spent most of it biding time with your mother while she tends to errands and chores. You meet me sometimes for lunch and I feel the importance of me in your day. I feel like a main event in a lineup otherwise crowded with too may forgettable acts. It can be a tough gig in a day full of stressful meetings and deadlines, but a challenge I’d never trade.

You are always the challenge I would never trade. Not for anything.

When I see the woman in you, I wonder if she’ll ever love me like the girl in you does. When this summer ends, will I never be the main event in your day again?

But I suppose that doesn’t matter (and the thought is selfish). The important thing is, I will never forget the little girl you were and will see her again in fleeting glimpses for the rest of my life….in a giggle, a concentrated task, or your eyes when you ask a question. There’s a deep joy that comes with knowing you from a bubble under mom’s shirt to the person you are right now and the person you’ll be as you hold my hand and let me go.

As long as I’m alive, I will know your whole story and that’s a deep blessing. Where I am in your heart along the way is something I can’t control or foresee. Wherever I am in your esteem, know that from this place I look back at you with the totality of love for the woman you are, the girl you were and the baby I couldn’t wait to meet.

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