I danced with cinderella
It's weird to miss your child just because she's grown up and living across town. I think that, the thing is, its like she has been so many different people over the years and I have enjoyed every one of those people and now she is none of those people.
Like in kindergarten when she wore this huge pink bow on her head and that impish, dimpled grin on her face cause she knew she was cute and no one could resist her charms.
And when we went canoeing when she was in about fifth grade. She was so determined to be grown up about canoeing but in the end we both wound up stretched out on our bellies on a sandbar digging through the sand for clams and arrowheads. She would never do that now.
Or when she was in middle school and would come running out of her room crying hysterically and I would run to her and say, "What's wrong?" and she would wail back, "I don't know." I would just hold her and laugh. My baby, my poor sweet baby! Now she's someone else's baby.
We used to go to the mall and try on ball gowns just for the fun of it. Those days, that little girl who did all those things with me is gone and even though I love the woman she has become I still miss the little girl and even the teenager that she was.
You know I'm listening to that song as I type, my eyes glistening, and I remember that Sarah and I used to dance. We had a song that was ours. When she was little I would pick her up and we would sway back and forth and I'd end up swinging her around and around. When she got bigger I showed her how to dip and twirl. We would dance around the kitchen laughing till we were out of breath. I remember that. http://youtube.com/watch?v=FX--7gFHkU0 My baby girl , good night I miss her!
So many of us are becoming grandparents, empty nesters or parent-in-laws. It's a strange sensation, watching your children grow and change.
I don't regret it, not one little bit; that kind of love is... well it's just worth it.
