Watching You Walk

It hardly seems like two years ago that you and I sat in the van and waited for Emma to make that walk. I remember that you were hanging over the backseat, staring desperately at the door, your 4th grade self breathlessly waiting to find out if she made the volleyball team. That was our first foray into school sports and we all knew how much was weighing on her results. You watched and watched and then when you saw her, you shouted aloud and said, "Mom, I can't tell if she made it or not!"

That was one day's tiny taste for you in what it's like to be a mom. As I sat in the van today, alone this time, and waited for YOU to make the same walk, praying for grace in success and an equal amount of grace in denial, I watched breathlessly to find out if you made the sixth grade volleyball team. As you walked out the door, I studied your gait from afar, searching for any sign of despondency or delight. The day before, you ran/skipped to the car, making the answer to the first cut quite clear. Today, it wasn't clear. When you got close enough for me to see your face, I searched your expression for disappointment or excitement. Still nothing. I watched you walk to the car and I thought back on how many other times I have watched you walk. 

Watched you walk (toddle) those first shaky steps, knowing these were the first steps away from me... watched you walk (awkwardly because ski boots don't walk well) into ski school at age two and hoped you and I would both survive the day on the Utah slopes...watched you walk into kindergarten on the first day, praying not to see timidity in your steps... watched you walk up the steps of the church van for your first trip to youth camp, hoping those steps were firm and sure... watched you walk through Yad Vashem, pleading with God for you to understand and not be damaged by being exposed to such horror so young... watched you walk on trembling legs to the stage of Conn Center last Christmas to play your guitar in the Mayfield program, knowing how terrified you were because I felt the same way... watched you walk out of school on a thousand days, reading your day and your mood in your steps... watched you walk out of elementary school for the last time in May, both of us sobbing over the relationships that we were going to miss so very much... watched you walk through the courtyard of an orphanage in Siem Reap, Cambodia, arms grasped by tens of little hands, knowing that what may have been awakened in you on that trip could one day take you far, far away from us... watched you walk into a big new school for the first time and knew that you were going to shine... watched you walk up to the case worker doing our home study and introduce yourself in a nervous voice and felt a mixture of fear and love as I thought about our future... watched you walk out of cross country tryouts, swim tryouts, and now volleyball tryouts and marveled at the fact that this non-athlete has somehow produced two 4-sport children... watched you walk angrily into the house when you made a bad choice and I disciplined you on the drive home... watched you walk (really tumble) around with Emma, goofing off, and been so proud that y'all love each other so... watched you walk arm in arm with your friends and saw their faces beam as they clamor for your smile and loved that you are mine... 

And I didn't let myself go there long, but for a second I glanced into the future at other times I will watch you walk...

Into the house after a date, wondering how it went... into my classroom... into an ACT testing room, a car for your first drive, the stage in Raider Arena on graduation day, a college dorm, down an aisle... 

Life is full of winding roads, Kelsey, but I want you to know that watching you walk them will always be my favorite thing. Congratulations on making the volleyball team. I'm your number one fan.