My eighteen year old just walked out the door for school and said, "Bye Mamma. Love you." And, that, my friends, almost melted me in the fetal position in the floor. It just hit me some kind of way this morning. Sure, I'll miss those once a year school picture days and next year if she is not in the first day of school picture (if I know her, though, she'll be in it!) I will be sad. But, I already know. I already know those are not the things that will break my heart when she leaves. Those are not the things I will miss the most.
I'll miss hearing "Mamma." I'll miss the casual goodbye as she walks out the door. I'll miss her coming in from the day and telling me the latest thing that has happened. I'll miss walking in her room to ask if my outfit is okay. I'll miss walking by her room at night and seeing her in her bed with a pillow over her face. I'll miss her clothes in my laundry hamper. I'll miss her coming and plopping down on my lap when she's had a particularly long day and needs me. I'll miss her being in her spot at the dinner table and I'll miss her lactose free milk in the fridge.
She is my first. I don't know why I started thinking about all this the moment she was born. I immediately knew that someday when she left me it would feel a little like having my heart ripped out. I just did not realize how quickly it would come.
I held her too much when she was a baby. I let her sleep with me for too long. I made her plate for her for too many years. Too many times I set aside my housework to play with her instead. I don't regret it one little bit, though. Because, even back then, I already knew... I knew there would someday be a "Bye, Mamma" that would take a huge piece of myself right out of my home.
