My baby is growing up. Yes, they all do, but some of these growth spurts are harder than others. You watch the baby steps as the days pass, and for the most part those steps bring joy into the process as they accomplish new things. Today is different.
Today my baby isn’t six months old tasting her first bite of solid food…turning the texture over on her tongue and gagging over the graininess of finely pureed food. She isn’t nine months old and shocking us with her first steps, bottle dangling from her teeth as she tries to become mobile and NOT let go of her favorite apple juice. She isn’t even five and braving her first day of class, thirteen and crying over mean girls in middle school, or, sixteen and dressed like a princess for her first dance…all very memorable moments that do bring a smile to my face.
Today my baby is 22 years of age. And I can’t smile over this baby step. I have known this day was coming for a very long time. It is a moment I tried to avoid thinking about, because it has been painful to envision her experiencing it. You see, today my baby came face to face with death. My baby as a nursing student was called to assist on her first code and death in the ICU ward she is working...IS working. The moment is so fresh that I can’t seem to function without stopping to process how she must feel. She was there, did all she knew to do, and when the immediacy of the moment passed she had to leave the room and text us…because she simply needed us to know. It doesn’t matter how old they are when they take the baby step, they still need us in their corner. They don’t necessarily need us to do anything, rush to their aid, or, step in. She just needed us to know.
So what did I do next? I began to pray, I turned to all that love her and I enough to pray right now.
And I want her to know these things…Just as it is a privilege to be present when a life takes its first breath, so it is to be present for its last. I am grateful to the one that made her in His image. Because of his great compassion and kindness, she is a mirror of His reflection. I want her to know that her great big beautiful heart and ability to show grief in moments like this, will speak loudly of HIS loving nature. I admire her ability to say yes to a life of serving and caring for others, even when it hurts.
Mostly, I want her to know how very proud I am that she came from me.
I love you, HSB.
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