When my youngest daughter entered elementary school, we did this thing. I’d stand on our porch every morning and watch her climb onto the bus. I’d follow her little head, bobbing in the aisle before finding the window seat. Once she was settled and before the bus would pull away, she’d press her little face against the window and we would wave our special goodbye signal until the bus turned the corner, out of sight. It was our thing for years. Until it wasn’t. One morning, I stood on our porch as she climbed onto the bus, walked the aisle, and took her seat by the window, just as she did every day, every year. I waved our special goodbye signal and waited for her to return the sentiment, just as we did every day, every year. I waved and waved until the bus was no longer in sight, but she never even looked out the window. For a moment, I was heartbroken. But then I realized, she was a tweenager now and she was growing up and what was once a thing, well … things change. She was the last of our children to enter this phase. Even though I had walked this journey before, something about her being the last one just hit a little hard. I had to let go. Just a little bit. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. And yet … My oldest grandchild has entered the tween stage. Hanging with her Mimi and doing the things we’ve done in the past has changed a bit. What once was is now a little different and for a moment today, my heart was sad. Even though I have walked this journey with my own children, there’s something about the first grandchild that just hits a little hard. She’s growing up and things change. I have to let go. Just a little bit. It’s fine. I’m fine. Everything’s fine. But I may need to stock up on the tissues for more moments to come. And that’s totally fine.
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