Bittersweet

This morning was the first day of Junior High School for my daughter. She is now in the sixth grade. In years past we went school shopping for cute little jeans with embroidered flowers along the leg. Little tops with puppies or kittens silkscreened on the front. We picked up #2 pencils, crayons and glue sticks. The night before we packed her pencil box with her new supplies and placed them in her backpack by the front door. The morning of school, I would help her dress and try to work some type of braid or ponytail into her thick unruly hair. We usually just gave up and patted it down with water from a spray bottle. After pictures on the front porch we depart for school. I would walk her to the door of her class and leave with a kiss and a big hug. Pride beaming from my face and my heart filled with love for my beautiful little girl.

This year we shopped for low rider jeans and paper thin tops with words like Abercrombie or Hollister printed on the front. While waiting outside the fitting room she tried on little bras and chose those easy to slip over her head. We picked up automatic pencils and fine point pens. The night before she placed her iPod in the side pocket of her backpack and placed it by the foot of her bed. This morning she was dressed before I was ready and we flat ironed her now long hair; combing it into silken threads. Rushing out the door there was no time for pictures. I drop her off in front of the school, she hesitates and turns and gives me a big hug before jumping out of the car. I watch her back as she goes into the building. A single tear slides down my face and my heart is filled with love for my beautiful young daughter.