The Journey

It seems like a lifetime ago that I braided your hair and dressed you in your pink and white dress for that first day of kindergarten. You were thrilled to have a backpack, just like your big brother did. And when I lifted it onto your little shoulders, it looked like it would tip you over backwards. But you were determined and ready.

We walked out of our front door and headed to the bus stop, just a few houses down from ours. The other boys and girls clustered around visiting, excited to be returning to school. You stood close to me and observed it all. And when that big yellow bus pulled up, it was time to let you go. My heart clenched as I watched you, barely able to get up the giant first step, and then walk down the aisle to take your seat.

I admit that as soon as the bus pulled away, I ran home and hopped in my car and drove to the elementary school. I had to make sure that you found your way, perhaps more for my sake than for yours. And you did. You found your way just fine because you were determined and ready.

Nearly nine months ago, you once again stood with a backpack, this time at the airport. And this time I couldn’t follow you. This time you were headed out into a much bigger world than kindergarten. And once again, my heart clenched as you walked to the security gate, asking us not to wait. I knew it was time to let you go, and I watched you walk away, determined and ready.

Next week, you are coming back to me. I know you will not be the same young woman who walked away last fall. You have grown, changed, and blossomed in these past months. And as you start the next chapter in your life, you are determined and ready to continue the journey started so long ago.

In a few days, I will see you walking towards me with your backpack, and my heart will clench again. But this time it will be with joy.