The First of the Lasts

I have decided to write this blog post today because I can cry at home without attracting too much attention. Just kidding! Not really. I have already started, and I'm only 5 sentences in. Tomorrow, September 3, 2013, my youngest, my baby, will begin her senior year in high school. For this household, it will be our last ever first day of school. I cannot believe that I have watched her do this for 13 years already. I can still remember exactly what she was wearing her first day of Kindergarten, a little jeans jumper and a striped purple shirt, and no I didn't have to search through pictures to recall. She had a little bob haircut, a style in later years she told me she disliked greatly. That wouldn't be the last opinion she would share through her school years as she definitely speaks her mind. :) I walked her and her sister down to the bus top and cried just like I am now, and I am sure there will be many tears shed this year as I watch this beautiful young woman experience all the things that have to do with your final year in school knowing it's the last bit of childhood I have to hold onto. If you read this blog at all or if you know me personally, you know that our life has been a struggle. She has grown up without a father as a daily presence in her life as her father and I separated when she was 2. Some would say, "Well that's all she has ever known, so it probably wasn't that bad," and that argument has valid points. How can you miss what you never had? But on the other hand, you don't even have the memories of what it is to be daddy's little girl. Thank God for my father as he took over that role for both of my girls but especially my youngest. They shared lots of time together as we lived with my parents for her preschool years and beyond. Her older sister was already in school so that made for lots of quality time spent with my dad as he was retired and her primary caregiver for most of the day. If you asked her she would say that I have been all she has ever needed, but it's really the other way around. My children were my saviors. I pulled myself up because of them. That little girl in the jeans jumper has lifted my spirits more than she will ever know with her wisdom far beyond her years. Her depth of compassion is staggering! I know that tomorrow will carry with it bittersweet feelings as we experience the first of many lasts this year together. Bitter, well for obvious reasons as I have already gone through three tissues typing this and sweet because I am so proud of the young woman she has become. I know every parent says that about their kid, but for this one, there's something more, something none of us will ever know. Every person she comes in contact with will be touched in some way by her humor, her compassion, her honesty, and it will change them. I know she has changed me, and at the risk of her reading this, and saying, "Mom, that's so cheesy!" I will close with these lyrics: Who can say if I've been changed for the better?
                                                        But because I knew you,
                                                        I have been changed for good.
Go change the world, sweet girl! I love you!