As the new school year kicked off last week, I found myself lost in a moment that only I seemed to notice. At the bus stop, kids were hustling to find their seats, and my son and daughter were the last to board. “Wait!” my partner called out, phone in hand, ready to capture a final snapshot. They turned around, and I caught a glimpse of my daughter’s expression—a mix of excitement and trepidation, what I refer to as her “look of uncertainty.” In that fleeting moment, my heart clenched as she glanced back at me. The photo was taken, and just like that, she was off.
As the other parents departed, I felt an overwhelming urge to collapse and sob. Instead, I remained composed, walking home in silence. I couldn’t share my feelings with my partner, who already thinks my emotional responses are a bit erratic. What lingered in my mind was not just her look, but the realization that it might be one of the last times I see it.
I’ll see that same look when she heads off to college, and I’ll hope for her to have a remarkable journey filled with friends and personal growth, far outweighing the distractions of young adulthood. I’ll see it again on her wedding day, praying that the man she chooses embodies all the wonderful qualities of her father, who loves and cherishes her. And when she cradles her own child, I’ll wish for her to trust her instincts and silence the self-doubt that plagued me.
I’ll also see that expression when I’m an elderly woman, my own vitality diminished. The fear in her eyes will likely stem from witnessing the frailty of the mother she once knew. In those moments, I’ll hope she remembers—the bedtime stories we read until every line was memorized, the countless hours spent playing with dolls, and how she wore Band-Aids simply because they were fashionable. I’ll remember how I encouraged her to pursue ballet despite her nerves, how I constantly reassured her of her intelligence and kindness, and how I understood her moods even before she spoke. I’ll cherish the times when I was strong enough to lift her and when my laughter echoed louder than anyone else’s.
I pray she recalls how she once thought I was the epitome of beauty, how she wanted to stay by our side forever, and how my partner and I expressed our love openly, dancing in the kitchen. I still remember the nights she cried from fears of loss, and how I comforted her, promising we’d be around for a long time.
As I watched my daughter board that bus, I realized that many years down the road, if life unfolds as I hope, I will be the one looking at her, filled with the same mix of love and anxiety, whispering, “I don’t want to leave you, and I’m sort of scared, but I have to go now.” Until that day arrives, I wish to hold on to every precious memory.
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In summary, saying goodbye is never easy, especially when it comes to our children. Each goodbye carries layers of love, hope, and memories that shape our relationships and their futures.
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