Grown don’t mean nothing to a mother. A child is a child.
They get bigger, older, but grown? What’s that suppose to mean?
In my heart it don’t mean a thing.
~Toni Morrison, Beloved
I almost missed it because I was so self-absorbed.
The first Last.
Her first Last.
After early breakfast with a friend, I had a late morning-through-lunch meeting followed by my youngest’s soccer match after school; her cross-country meet was sandwiched snugly in between.
I had things to get done, after all. Lingering work for an upcoming event, heavy duty housework dictated by a visit from out-of-town friends, and outstanding writing commitments.
“She doesn’t care if I’m there…” I rationalized. Every meet for three years she had said the same thing–“Y’all don’t need to come.” Why not finally take her at her word?
“She doesn’t even care about the sport…” I contended. Seemingly half-hearted, her times hadn’t improved this year. Winning wasn’t the goal, finishing was.
This meet was an imposition, an inconvenience, an intrusion in my day.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of her…very; she’s accomplishing what I’ve never attempted or believed I could do. But her ambivalence over time, and my busyness of the week, combined to justify my absence.
But then my husband had to go and ruin it.
“I’m taking off work to watch Rachel in the Regional meet,” he stated matter of factly. “I’ll just meet you there.”
A bit defensive I said, “Well, I wasn’t planning to go.”
“Okay, that’s fine [and he meant that, sincerely, no guilt attached], but I’m not going to miss the last chance I have to watch my daughter run.“
…the last chance
…to see my daughter
….r u n.
The words echoed in heart canyons.
“I hadn’t thought of it that way….” Did I speak that out loud or just think it? I can’t remember now. Regardless, begrudgingly, my plans had just changed.
*
*
*
Rushing from my meeting to the race, I arrived at its exact start time; no point was served in walking to the course beginning. Instead, camera in hand, I waited at the turn; she would pass nearby twice.
Ahead of the runners, I paused to breath in the beauty of the venue. Impossible blue skies melted into the lake, edges seasoned in orange, red and yellow. Thoughts trail, lost in Fall’s Show.
And then I saw her in the distance, her movements discernible only to her own mother’s eye… my needle in the haystack.
Her pace was quicker. I didn’t need a stop watch, I knew because of the nameless-familiar runners who bookended her front and back.
Mothers remember the most curious details, don’t we?
Focusing on her, I snapped the shutter a dozen times, probably more. Do you know how hard it is to simultaneously track with a moving object, cheer behind a camera’s lens and get a decent picture? The effort was well compensated: she smiled, amused.
I made my way to the finish line waiting and watching. Again, her familiar flash of red and stride matched my predictable snap and cheer.
I found my husband and together, with few words, we walked to where she’d emerge from the runner’s chute. I wondered (knew?) what he was thinking.
There wasn’t time to say much. I had 14 minutes to race across town yet again, to my youngest son’s school where he’d be waiting on his soccer uniform…worried, I’m sure, I wouldn’t make it on time (the match had been rescheduled an hour earlier in the day but we didn’t find out until just before the meet).
I kissed her on the cheek–something I had never done before after a run–impulsive, instinctive, even odd, yet right in that moment. She thanked me for coming, surprised I had made it.
Turning, I quickly walked back to my car when suddenly waves crashed–emotion unexpected and raw, and new thoughts not welcome at all–
I had just watched my daughter’s last high school cross-country meet.
The first of many lasts…
The first Last….
For the first time since school started, it sank in: this time next year, she won’t be living at home. Though having given this mental ascent, this time my heart felt it.
There’s a difference.
Eyes burning and throat stinging, I forced back tears that threatened to pour. Determined, I insisted today was not the day I’d fall apart!
So I didn’t.
*
*
*
Stars shimmer on obsidian sky and I see the moon wink; she’s sitting at the kitchen table, reading. I’ve come downstairs to do something that needs to be done (but in reality, doesn’t) when she looks at me. She smiles sideways, stands, and I step backwards; she doesn’t play fair and she’s moving in my direction.
“I wouldn’t mind being like you when I grow up,” and I start to say, “Don’t you dare…” but before I can finish “…make me cry” she’s inches away and slips her arms around me. She thanks me for coming to her meet and tells me she loves me. Acutely aware of ticking seconds, I hold on to
her…
these words…
this moment….
because soon enough it’ll be time to let go.
Oh my goodness, Robin…this one got to me. I had trouble reading through the tears <3. Beautiful. Just...BEAUTIFUL.
Susan,
I read it out loud to see how it sounded (sometimes I catch poor writing that way), and I was shocked to be moved to tears! I wrote the blasted thing and it made ME cry! I think this is how I'll be processing her senior year.
s i g h…
My oldest is only 9 but I just teared up reading this, imagining us there in for too short a time. Beautiful Robin.
aw booger! Made me cry. My daughter graduated in June. My niece will graduate this coming June. *sigh*
Chin up, Mama! You’ll make it. 😀
The only thing it’s missing is the Kleenex disclaimer at the beginning! =p
So moving, Robin. My oldest is only ten, and it’s bittersweet to think about her growing up, but it’s not “real” yet, you know? But on the other hand, I look at my 4 year old (my kids are all about 3 years apart, had we planned a 4th, we’d have already passed the window in which we’d tried to have one..) and I think “He’s my LAST one.” There will be no more teeny baby fingers and sweet smelling baby necks to nuzzle. No more cradling and nursing in the middle of the night. He’s the LAST. BABY. … And then I have to try really hard not to break into tears because that would just be silly!! Maybe this is why Grandmas like Grandbabies so much…
Robin! Oh my goodness how this touched my heart! And it is so applicable to any stage of our children’s lives. I’ll never forget the last time my oldest said, Cindalella instead of Cinderella or the last time my middle daughter actually acknowledged Dora the Explorer and the last day my baby went to kindergarten. Boo-hoo, wah, wah, wah!!! I LOVE this post….well….I love them all – but I particularly love this one!!!
sniff** sniff**
Robin,
thank you for this gift.
xoxo
love you
oh my.
This was a heart masterpiece.
I felt it once Robin. Still it wasn’t the same.
Giving my baby sister away. When mom left this earth, and her father vacated his throne (and responsibilities) somebody needed to step in to the life of the 18 year old, long professed, apple of my eye. Somebody had to show her that love exists regardless of circumstances and is UNCONDITIONAL.
This was my goal – never stated.
A little more than a decade later she had this moment, like your daughter, and she told me. She too stepped forward and said,
“Because of you I know what it feels like
to be loved
no matter what
and that your love
is unconditional.”
There was no breath to take. And I didn’t want to let go either.
Then I handed her over to a man I could only hope would look after her the way I did. Giving away your treasure, to a man you barely know, and trusting him to treasure her – it broke a piece of me.
It was my first last – and my last last.
Robin, like Mary when her son was purified at the temple, and dedicated to God, and Simeon warned her,
“and a sword will pierce your heart”.
There is a reason he told this to Mary – the mom – and not Joseph. There are galaxies of heart sounds that only a mother knows.
Thank you Robin
What a sweet, wonderful girl you have. I’m so glad you made it to her meet, and so glad that you have such a good relationship with her!
Beautiful. Perhaps the best was the sweet words at the end. Going to find the kleenex…
Awesome post!!!! Loved it. While I was reading it I reflected back to a few years ago when we were sitting in church together and I looked over at Rachel who was sitting with the youth group. I remember sayin, she’s just not happy is she…she had a sad look on her face. WOW…she’s come such a long way from then. Everytime I see her now, she has the most contageous smile that lights up the room. It’s been a priviledge to watch her blossom into a beatutiful young woman…..I truely saw her blossom!!! Thanks Rachel for allowing me to be apart of your life and seeing you grow!!!
Nicole,
I've learned from experience books on their head to stunt growth doesn't work a bit! 😉
Mishababy,
Double doozie for YOU! All of our cousins stair step, too, so we'll be in this season for a decade or more. Yikes! 🙂
Amber,
For me, things snuck away with my youngest; All of a sudden I would realize he didn't need me for "something" days (weeks) after he had stopped asking! I dunno, somewhere along the way, I LEARNED not to while away their time, to savor the good…and even the bad, knowing fully well that both will eventually pass. 🙂
Rachel,
How weird is this: there are some of my posts I hope YOU in particular stumble across! And this is one of 'em :). Maybe because my daughter shares your name, or maybe because I think you HEAR me…regardless, thanks for your always encouraging words. xo
Craig,
"There are galaxies of heart sounds that only a mother knows."
Gorgeous. I mean your whole comment is lovelysad, but that line is true and poetically lyrical. Thank you.
Jeni,
Sometimes I'm concerned people might read me and a) think she and I never struggle (false) or b) that I'm a bragger and that my time will come :/. The truth is, Rachel is set apart, loves Jesus fiercely, and challenges ME to be better! I'm thankful we share a REAL relationship, too. Thank YOU for your always generous comments!
Christina,
You always make me smile from the inside out–thank you! I loved writing this, I guess because it seemed important to remember. I forget so much, so certain moments I wanna capture. I t h i n k I accomplished that here….
(And "Cindalella"???? Oh, my…that just broke my heart!)
Aubrey,
You made me smile…that's a GOOD thing! 🙂
Paige!! I remember you saying that; and I can still vaguely feel that season and I'm so thankful it's behind us. It's special to me to have friends who knew her "then" and witnessed her transformation. You knew how much my heart ached then and now it aches for a whole NEW reason! I could only be as lucky as your mama having so many of her babies nearby!
I LOVE you commented to this post (and saw it in the midst of a BUSY week for you!) and I'm excited you're stepping into this crazy blogging world. I think you're gonna like it! 🙂
xo
This brought it all back for me, when I realized that I was experiencing my son’s last firsts. It was bittersweet for me, and there are still last firsts to go. I cried as he accepted his high school diploma, cried as he made his announcement to go into ministry, and will cry again as he makes his final walk in college. So many last firsts– we are so privileged to be there for such wonderful moments in our children’s lives!
Wow, I am sitting at a fundraiser, and fighting back tears. I can remember every moment of the day my daughter left for college. She went from being my baby girl, giving her life to Christ at 4, to an incredible young woman with so much promise. I was on one side smiling because of the woman she had become, and crying because of the times I had missed before she left.
God blesses us with our children and we have them for such a short time. I can tell you that even though I have messed up as a dad, I can not be more proud of the fact that she saw me for the broken human being that I am and loved me anyway, that she remembers the good times and the lessons that were taught that could be applied to life.
Thanks for the reminder Robin!
It’s ok that you didn’t fall apart…because I totally fell apart for you.
Thank you for this touching reminder that our children eventually grow up.
…even if I am sobbing at my desk now.
That was beautiful!
I am the blessed mom of two step-children and two of my own…the year the oldest was a senior, the youngest was in kindergarten. I spent the majority of the year being the Queen of Denial!! Then it happened…on a Saturday in April..I went to the kitchen to get my coffee and there on the counter was the BOX. Graduation announcements. I turned around and went back to bed and cried the whole day!! Seeing it in writing always makes it so REAL and FINAL!
The first one is always the hardest, as is the last!
You will treasure this always in your heart!!
ohmy Robin…you’ve slayed me. That post was so well-written. I was right there with you, feeling the time crunch, the choices that seem small but are big, and the mad dash. Then, the realization of the first last…be still my heart. It was enough.
But then. The words from your daughter. Seriously? I’m done.
Thanks for sharing–it’ B-E-A-UTIFUL. Sigh.
Big
Fat
Tears rolling down my face now.
What an honor to be a mother.
Beautifully written.
So true… My daughter age 32 with her own daughters now. The last will come… the last school lunch, the last conference, the last recital, but the important part of your whole story is the relationship you have with her. That will be forever etched in both of your hearts till the last goodbye.
(I think the Lord used your husbands words to nudge the heart of a mom~ he was very wise)
Well said! Welcome to “The Lasts.” Savor every stinkin’ minute.
Awww…*hand to heart*
my daughter turns 11 in December and when I look at all the new and exciting things she is learning and doing, I am elated and sad at the same time.
Sometimes, I wish I had more than one child.
New to your blog, looking forward to more.
You just had to go there and make me cry, didn’t ya?! Sigh. I’m not looking forward to the “lasts” but I know that they shall come sooner than I expect them.
Beautiful post, Robin. Very possibly my favorite one.
Darn you. You’re the second person today to make me cry. I’m not look forward to the day of my son’s last XC meet either (he also wears red/white stripes…so double whammy for me…:P)
My son, and last bird out of the nest, went to college this past August. Getting to know my hubby on a “single-basis”, is the weirdest thing. Should be the easiest, but I don’t think we mammas realize how full that nest has been, until it’s empty. *tears, smile….
Well that just totally made me cry because I can so relate. Last year I struggled with wondering if I should take a break from school because I had 3 daughters on the Varsity Basketball team and two of them were seniors… I knew if I stayed in school that I would miss the majority of their games…but I had been watching them play for 6 years so should I take that break??? I knew deep down that I would regret it if I didn’t becuase it was their last year playing and I would never forgive myself…. they are now graduated and I am so glad that I spent that extra time with them..now I have one more daughter who is a senior and is a cheerleader and playing basketball so I will once again put school off for another season and go back next summer… Our kids do notice and it means a lot when they know we are puting them first… Thanks for reminding me that I made the right choice. I know that your daughter will remember that for the rest of her life.
Dang, girl. You totally made me cry. My oldest is 17 and I hadn’t thought of anything in that way . . . yet. It won’t be long, though.
Dang, you just made me cry! I don’t have time to cry this morning! 🙂 Beautiful, just beautiful.
My son is only a freshman in high school and I keep thinking “we only have 4 years left” of him being at home until college. I will be right there feeling the same things when he is a senior. Beautifully written by the way.
I’m new here so maybe this is the usual in regards to personal and deep revelations. However, I truly loved how you let us hear your thoughts, your decision-making, your heart-tugging. You completely pulled me in. Thank you for sharing this.
I live my life by the idea that I regret what I didn’t do more than what I did. If you believe something like that as well, then you will cherish your decision even more.
As seen by the touching moment shared by you & your daughter, you are helping to grow your own inner awareness and that of your child as well!
Robin, I came across your blog today via a comment you left on the (in)courage post today. I read this and couldn’t hold back the tears from stinging my eyes. You put such “real” emotion into this one simple everyday moment and I can’t thank you enough for sharing. It’s these moments that make up our lives. It’s the spaces in between what we “think” to be important where our lives are made. I hope to have more time reading your posts. I appreciate you sharing. What a lovely mother daughter moment.
Stephani