We took pictures in front of the school with her mom, dad, and little sister. Then it was time for the bell to ring so we escorted her into school, then her classroom. We met her teacher, a very pleasant lady in her early forties wearing a blouse, skirt and comfortable flats. My granddaughter had already met her once before, during orientation. Only as she was greeted by her teacher did she get a little quiet, becoming uncharacteristically shy. She sat in her assigned seat, delighted that a friend of hers was assigned to the same table.
On the walk back to the house, I held my other granddaughter, a 10-month-old, smiling charmer, who wrapped her legs around my waste and waved to anyone who would look at her. I thought about how fast time goes by the older you get. It would be a blink of an eye and we would repeat this scene with her in five short years--when her big sister enters the 5th grade.
The melancholy is a signal that you are in love with this moment, and you don’t want to lose it! But you are forgetting that you will be in love with the next moment, then the next moment. A better way to look at your children growing and maturing is to love the process, the process of going from moment to moment--while really living in each of those moments.
A tear streaming down a mother’s cheek, coming from the deep emotion of love is beautiful. A tear streaming down an absent father’s cheek because his grown children won’t have anything to do with him—is tragic!