I heard the bus after it drove by. I heard my daughter knocking on the door. What I missed was that she was crying. Crying? On the last day of school? Man, I have been looking forward to this for the last two weeks! I wanted to shout for joy! So why was she crying?
Turns out, she wishes she could be in first grade for forever. She was mourning the loss of her first grade times. She didn't want to progress to second grade, she had so much fun. What I tried to explain to her after I let her sob into my breast (that's where she reaches me, she's getting so tall!), is that the best times are still ahead.
But aren't well all like that? We move from one phase to the next, mourning the time in the last phase, hoping it will never end. I am. I mourned only having two children when my third was born, I sobbed when I got released from my last calling. But I have to tell myself the best is yet to come. If we stagnate, if we stay in first grade forever, that is damnation. No matter how fun it was, we'd eventually get bored.
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