Transitions

Last weekend, my son and I went to a program on birds of prey at our local nature preserve.  At the end, the presenters had a surprise for the attendees: they were going to release a great horned owl back into the wild.

That owl was ready to go.  He was taken out of the crate he had been transported in and set loose. He flew off, not looking back.  The second he took off was an astounding moment; it was the boundary between restricted and free.  I was tempted to break out the iPhone to take a picture, but sometimes you just need to be in the moment.

I feel that I am in a time of transitions.  Some transitions, like the release of the owl, happen with clear boundaries; I remember watching the wedding of Princess Diana and Prince Charles years ago.  Before the wedding, she was just "Lady Diana"; after the wedding, she was a princess!  One minute  you are one thing; the next you are something else.  Many transitions, however, seem to sneak up on you quietly.

When the teenager was young, I remember giving her a bath one night after returning from a work trip, and when she stood up, I could clearly see that the baby belly and chunky legs had somehow disappeared and been replaced with the longer, leaner body of a toddler. That hadn't happened in one day, but I hadn't noticed it until then.  I felt a twinge of sadness; in that moment, I realized she'd transitioned from infancy to young childhood.

I didn't get enough pictures ! I wanted to cry.  I never did the baby handprint Christmas ornament I was going to do!  Go back! Do-over time!

I remember the day the princess dress-up went into the Goodwill box.  Most of them didn't fit anymore, but they were still treasured, or so I thought- until the day my daughter was told to clean out her room and, as a result of that effort, piled up the  well-loved costumes and said, haughtily, "Those can go.  I don't do dress-up anymore".

Since when? I said.  Weren't you just wearing one of these the other day?

No, Mom.  She rolled her eyes at me. I'm too old for dress-up now.

And just like that, my little girl was a tween.

Recently I attended an awards ceremony at the teenager's school.  Name after name was called; as I watched the students accept their awards I realized that many of the recipients were kids I'd known since they were in kindergarten.  The teenager had played soccer with them, gone to school with them, been in Girl Scouts with them.  I remembered some of them as young children, and at some point they had grown up and become almost-adults, headed off to 11th grade.

When did that happen?

Recently the teenager got a "teen checking account" at the bank, along with a debit card. The banker and the teenager handled the transaction with some (not much) input from me.  When did my baby girl get old enough to have a "teen checking account"? When did she get old enough to drive a car? When did that happen?

Last night was the final band concert of the year.  Afterwards, I was talking to a friend while waiting for the teenager to appear.

Next year they'll be juniors, my friend said.  That's when all the important stuff starts happening.

Two more years before graduation; it seems like such a long time. 24 months.  Yet, I don't think it is. I suspect that before I know it, I'll be watching her walk away from me in a cap and gown, towards graduation, asking myself, when did that happen?

I'm not sure that I'm ready.