It was her first day of school.
The night before, we had carefully packed up her backpack with notebooks, crayons, and other assorted school supplies that we had gotten at Office Depot just hours prior. I knew half of them wouldn't be used, but the eagerness and insistence of my little girl won me over. As I saw her backpack flop up and down her back while she skipped to the bus stop, I started getting teary eyed. I knew that the backpack was only going to grow larger. Soon, she wasn't going to be able to skip that freely down the street. Soon, she wasn't going to need a bus stop. Soon, she wouldn't be my little girl. I pushed the tears back and assumed my role as mother. I held out my hand and said,
"Can you hold my hand, please?" She nodded, agreeing. As she took my hand, my heart became swollen with joy. I knew she thought I took her hand as a precaution, but in reality, I just wanted to hold my little girl, one last time.
She tugged me along, asking me to hurry up. I slowed behind her. The bus stop was up ahead and I knew we wouldn't be late, the bus hadn't even arrived. I was going to drag this walk on as long as possible.
As we finally arrived, other mothers and fathers were gathered around their children, praying that the bus would take just a little bit longer. To our dismay, we saw it edge around the corner and make it's way to our stop. I could hear the bus engine grunt and groan. As it headed closer, I could hear the air brake let out a big sigh right before it made it's way to a squeaky stop. My daughter looked up at me then back at the bus. Her blonde ringlets were bouncing back and forth. She finally looked up at me one last time with a huge grin plastered across her face. A true, "ear to ear" smile.
I kneeled down in front of her, adjusted her backpack straps, touched her perfect hair one last time and said,
"Have a good first day of school, sweetheart."
"I will, Mommy." She replied. She edged her way to the bus steps and turned once more. "Oh and Mommy? I love you."
