From the tears welling up in my eyes and the pounding in my chest, you would have thought it was me who was heading back to school. But no, today my daughter is off to start her first day of seventh grade, ..., seventh grade. It just doesn't seem possible to me. I have a photograph of my little one that I took on her first day of first grade. I gaze at it often and use it as a screen saver on my computer. The memory of that instant and that little girl is burned into my mind. It is so vivid, so real, so seemingly yesterday. I remember how I cried then too and how she comforted me and reassured me when I was supposed to be there to do that for her. I just can't fathom how the time line of our lives together could have gone from then to now so quickly.
However, after a thoroughly enjoyable summer for her, and one that raced by far too fast for my tastes, she has readied herself to face the new challenges that will be presented to her. New classmates, new classes, new teachers, new social pressures. I am sure that we will quickly fall back into our usual patterns of homework, reading, and various school projects and activities. It is enjoyable for me to see her apply herself and master things of which she was initially fearful. I love to see her grow and expand her mind, to journey with her as she discovers who she is and what she wants. Yet once again, it is she who comforts me as I try to not hold on too tightly.
