In less than three weeks, summer will end and my daughter will start Kindergarten. I’ve anticipated this beginning for most of the year. It seems like an incredible transition, for me and her. Just a few weeks ago, a friend asked whether I was ready for the summer to be over. My own answer surprised me. I told her with little hesitation, “No.” I realize I am not ready to let my daughter venture into her next milestone.
My days are filled with the musings of my five year old. She shares my space almost exclusively. In the morning, I write, while she colors. Sometimes she spins her own stories and often she asks, “Momma, how do I spell this word?” The pace of these mornings are slow, with nothing occupying the space except the words exchanged between us. I notice everything about her and what she says to me. Part of me wants to tattoo these moments in my head because I don’t want to forget the innocence of our conversations.
As she grows older, some of her childlike mannerisms are disappearing. She doesn’t say “lellow” and “triangadu”, but yellow and triangle. She prefers showers now, instead of baths. When I asked her yesterday morning if she will ever take a bath again, she responded with “No. Baths are for three year olds Momma. I am almost six.” There are connections she’s making and I am learning that she has her own preferences and will. She eats her french fries plain, claiming that ketchup is too sour. Her favorite ice cream flavor is anything with mint. She loves to sing and dance, especially when she senses that no one is watching.
I am witnessing her discovery of all of her likes and dislikes. Everytime she is surprised or excited or happy about something new, I realize that it is a beginning for her. And as I watch her, the pull is to hold tighter and not let go of these particular moments. There is a certain charm of a five year old, laughing, crying, running back and forth all in an attempt to capture life. It’s a goodness you must watch to really appreciate.
When the school year begins, I will pack her lunch, drive her to school, and witness yet another beginning for my daughter. Part of me knows that it signifies an ending for me.
So I don’t mind this summer pace. Slow, but memorable.
I am going to hold on as much as I can. Because letting go is just around the corner.
Welcome! I am a lawyer turned freelance writer, essayist, and editor. On staff at Literary Mama and the co-founder and co-editor of the literary journal, The Sunlight Press, my essays and reported work have appeared in The Washington Post, The Lily, Saveur, Civil Eats, Brain, Child, ESPN and elsewhere. I am currently at work on a memoir on grief and culture and how it provides perspective on life’s ordinary graces. I invite you to appreciate the ordinary with me. I hope my daily practice of seeing the magic in the mundane helps you celebrate and find more of these moments in your life too.
Oh how I remember this, I felt exactly the same way last summer as my oldest faced his first day of school. I struggled with that milestone, and all the change I knew it would bring. And certainly that change came, and some of it was so hard, but some was equally exquisite, and wonderful to watch.
Huge her close, cherish these moments, because, yes, they go way to fast.
xo
It seems in life that letting go is always just around the corner and then another milestone occurs. You’ll find how you love each stage they go through even though letting go hurts as times…memories are wonderful comforters.
So many beginnings that sound so special, sweet and hard to let go of. You always make me weepy!
Awww, sounds like a perfect summer. I like how nandini said she’s almost 6- and her bday is 6 months away. 🙂
She’s adorable! Such a happy child!
You just put my feelings into words. I woke up this morning with a knot in my stomach at the thought that summer is almost over. My oldest is starting kindergarten, too, and it’s killing me. I’m both thrilled for him and terrified for him. I’m not ready!! (It’s all about me, right?!)
Hold on to these beautiful moments. I tell my little one that I wish time would slow down because he is growing up too fast. I feel so blessed to have a little one home since my big one is all grown..sigh.
“The pull is to hold tighter and not let go.” So, so true, and such a tenacious instinct to undo.
In some ways, I feel like Romanian preschool (5 days a week, all day long) is practice for kindergarten. I’m slowly learning to let her go, but I don’t feel much of the wistfulness because it’s just preschool. Will it translate when it’s “big school” time?? I wish I knew.
Slow and memorable.
Yes, that sounds right. And the process of letting go is just that – a process. Imprint those images and sensations, and let go – bit by bit.
Going through this myself this summer, though it all feels much too fast.
And just this morning I was telling a friend that I am ready for summer to be over. Clearly I need this reminder today to slow down and drink in these long, lazy days.
I loved this: “I am going to hold on as much as I can. Because letting go is just around the corner.”
Oh, Rudri. As usual, you make me think. I wish that blogs had existed in the 70s so that we could read what our own mothers saw in us as we shifted from babies to toddlers to preschoolers to kids. Did they notice the nuances and note the emerging individuality? Your sweet girl has such a gift in these posts.
I am right there with you, Rudri. I want August to go as slow as possible.
Isn’t parenthood a daily exercise in letting go? I think so. And this letting go, this embrace of time and of progress, is tough work. I am with you in wanting to slow it all down. If only, right? Beautiful words. As always.
Slowing down is hard for me since I always feel like I’m on the go, looking for the next thing to cross off my list yet this summer is different. I HAVE to take it slowly, to inhale every breath mindfully because it’s not often I get the chance to stay home (on maternity leave) with my daughters.
SO, so true. I remember when I was young, my grandmother would always comment on how fast time flies. Of course then, I didn’t believe her…… I do now!
“…because letting go is just around the corner…” I love this. I’d much rather savor the impermanence of each phase rather than shed tears over its impending loss.