This is another self-indulgent post. I could barely sleep last night. I spent yesterday watching recitals of little girls just to see my big girl perform. Today, is her recital. She has two shows, and the anticipation of closing this chapter is overwhelming.
I remember when Will played his last soccer game. It was the last of his sports. I didn’t know it would be his last game until the end, and it was when it was over that I realized I would never have those moments with him again. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I cried on the way home from that game, but even then, the enormity of saying good-bye to that part of motherhood didn’t seem quite real yet.
Now, though, he is an adult and our relationship is different, wonderful but different, so this enormity of losing this part of motherhood is much more real the second time around.
As I watched the little ones come onto the stage yesterday in tutus bigger than they were, I wished I had been able to note when her last recital with that kind of costume had been. It seems like forever since I’ve heard her whine about it itching while I thought it was so pretty and precious. Those are the moments we don’t know to appreciate.
So today, I am going to watch and enjoy. I may shed a few tears with my fellow moms — there are so many of us this year. Claire was in a large dance class of seniors and they have been together for so many years. The theme of this year is “The Time of My Life,” and I think these kids have experienced that together. Our concerts have a dramatic piece, and Claire and her friend Bianca play the two friends that essentially narrate the show, that has a climax where Biana’s solo leads into a piece featuring all seven seniors that are still dancing [we’ve had an injury]. The show concludes with graduation. It is so special that even with such a large class each of these seniors are still able to perform their solos and do their special piece. I should proudly mention that they just learned the new piece last week — these kids are really rockstars!
My message that I wanted to share is this — for those of you with younger children, be present. Sometimes you will be blessed to know when the “lasts” of your children are happening but many times you won’t. If you are present, you will be blessed with the happy memories that will make days like the day we have today truly special. Yes, I will shed tears, but they will be happy ones. I am fiercely proud and have so many happy memories. It’s time to move forward and turn the next page…