First Day of School...1996

Holding my six year old in my lap, her head leaning on my chest as though she wanted to melt into me, gave me instant flashback to her babyhood. Today was a milestone in her life, the first day of first grade. She was having some anxiety, but was not able, or at least not willing, to express any of it, other than climbing onto my lap and holding on for dear life.

I closed my eyes, and if I ignored the fact that her legs were practically dragging the floor, I could imagine her as the helpless infant that existed only a few years ago. I breathed in the smell of her hair, sweet and warm from sleep. I felt tears sting. I wanted this moment to last. But I knew it would last in memory only. So we sat, silent and still.

It passed all too quickly, as these kinds of moments do, and was replaced by the hurried chant of “We’ll be late!” and “Don’t forget your backpack!”.

It seems there are more milestones in her life already than I could have ever anticipated before I became a parent, and it amazes me how strongly they affect my emotions. I have been brought to tears by a first smile, a first word, a first step, and a first loose tooth. This child has brought me more joy, more fear (for her), more anger (towards others who were unfair to her) at a deeper, stronger level than I realized I had. I would fight for her, I would starve for her, I would give my life for her. I can think of no sacrifice too great that would keep me from protecting her.

How I will ever survive all the other firsts ahead of us, some of which will be much more threatening to my “motherhood”, I do not know. The gift God gives us in children is a mighty big responsibility for mere mortals, and I am impressed that He ever considered it in the first place. Perhaps He is teaching us with one of the most powerful tools He has – the love of a child – and figures if this doesn’t work, it’s pretty hopeless. For who can resist the fierce loyalty and unconditional love a small child gives to their mother? And who else, other than God, shares those qualities?

My own childhood has memories that stand out in vivid detail, but a lot of everyday life is, of course, forgotten. I don’t know what my daughter will remember vividly and what she’ll only recall as mundane, but my prayer is that what she will remember fully is the bond that can be like no other, the bond between a mother and child. I also know, from my own experience, that this is not fully realized until one becomes a mother. Even then, it is hard to imagine that anyone could feel that way toward oneself. I look at my mother and am amazed that she must have felt that way about me (and does she still?), but as children we assume it is so.

Perhaps when my daughter experiences another first – her first child – I’ll see that look of amazed love in her eyes and be satisfied that we have come full circle.

Until then, I will hold on to each and every first with all my might, storing it away to share with her later, when our memories can ignite in each other smiles from the past and hope for the future children in our lives.