The other night Scott and I watched Miss Potter again. I hadn't seen it since I watched it when it came out.
Oh my.
I love that movie.
I couldn't help but think of our little Mimi and how much she loves to dance (how can you not think about that with that lovely melody of a theme song?).
But it was more than that.
It was thinking about the sweet innocence she has now.
Her tenderness.
Her femininity.
I was reduced to tears, talking with Scott about the recognition of what's happening here.
I know these moments I love won't linger long. They are fleeting, wisping away as we speak.
Today, a woman I love is leaving on a mission.
I babysat her as a little girl, grew up next door.
I remember feeding her a bottle, cradling her in my arms.
I remember tucking her into bed at night as she grew into a young girl.
And, as an adult, we've covered all kinds of ground in various conversations.
Now, she's off to take a supreme message to the world.
I thought of my recollections moment about Mia last weekend as I read her mom's text saying it was difficult today, getting ready to send her off.
Probably difficult because they remember her as a baby, as a sweet little girl, as a blooming 8-and-9-year-old, a lovely young woman. They can remember the ups and downs, but I bet that today, they remember what a privilege the journey has been. All the moments culminate into something sweet and poignant.
This parenting thing is a gift beyond gifts.
(And, a link to one of my favorite essays on mothering. Go here and then click on the link for the full PDF.)
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