Yesterday might have been March 12 on the calendar, but for me it was another first.
A: Alyssa and I want to go shopping in Tupelo this morning.
Me: Sure! What time should we leave?
A: Umm, we were kind of thinking we might go...just the two of us?
Me: But who will driv......ohhhh.....
A: I've done it with you in the car lots of times. You know I can handle it, Mom. Please?
Me: speechless > *blink* *blink*
Dad: taking my hand in his and squeezing lightly> A, you'll do fine. But be home before dark, honey. And call us if you have any problems.
So A and Alyssa went to Tupelo shopping yesterday morning. A drove...an hour and a half....without me.
She did fine and someplace deep inside I knew she would, but I had to keep reminding myself of that. Why do all the worst images race through a mother's mind when a child (or young adult) is doing something for the first time?
And why, when a mom needs most to see her daughter as almost grown, do images of her as a toddler keep creeping in? I stood at the kitchen window watching A back out of the driveway yesterday morning and the present kept changing places with the past as I remembered my 3 year old Alooking just as happy driving her yellow and orange Little Tykes car.
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