Craddle to College

My Addison is turning a chapter.  In 10 months, this chapter of her life will close as she eagerly turns the page on a brand new one.  My job:  prepare her to finish well ... and begin fresh!

This week, I took 2 days to spend with her ... just she and I.  I booked a room at a great little hotel (JUFA) outside of the city about an hour.  It was in the middle of nowhere in wine country.  The one grocery store in the town closed at 12:00 noon.  The one saving grace was a pool that guests in our hotel could go to for free.  And we did.

As we sat in the sun, our faces toward one another ... we just talked.  I brought a book on prayer and I would read a little, out loud.  Then, when we got too hot, we'd get into the pool.  She jumped off the diving board and I cheered her on ... just like when she was 7 years old.  We both went down the slide (of death ... the ladders were so steep I got woozy from the climb and what appeared to be a leisurely pace turned out to be a death trap!) and laughed out loud at the experience.

When we had enough, we went back to the room.  We ended up taking a nap.  I woke up first and had to just stare at the young woman that used to be my little girl in the bed next to me. 

I won't disclose all of the details that took place over the last 2 days ... they were to simple and sweet to be public.  What I will share is this ... she's ready.  She's ready to take the next step.  She doesn't know it, but she is.  Every moment that I nursed a skinned knee, wiped a dirty face, offered unwanted help in Algebra, or suggested a different necklace seems to be just water under some proverbial bridge.  All those simple, everyday moments are now the beacons of light that shine in my memory.  Someone should have told me to record everyone of them, not just the "big" stuff.

I wanted to "mark" this phase of her life before life got too busy.  I wanted to speak blessing and courage into her life before her last school year ends.  I wanted to created a moment ... perhaps even a holy moment ... that she could look back on and remember.  I wanted our 2 days to make an impact ... to carry weight ... to set some stones down in the ground as a memorial.

It was just 2 days ... 2 very simple, lazy, non-planned days.  I spoke what I wanted to say.  I heard what she wanted to say.  We sat in silence and enjoyed each other. 

Having kids is a weird thing.  You get your "marching orders", those things that you think you need to do, need to say, need to be ... and then you run with it.  After 2 days of hearing her precious heart, it was those things that I did, said or was ... that were random or just part of "normal" life that impacted her the most.  And, at the end of the day ... it's the random, everyday things that I cherish the most in her.  And, when it's all said and done ... it's the random, everyday things that I will miss the most.

I'm no rain cloud.  I'm not counting down the days.  I'm just soaking them all up and in and breathing them in deeply.  These are sweet days ... the sweetest days I know.