One of my constants. Sarah saying, as I leave her room for the night, "Don't forget to come check on me." If she doesn't say it right away I stand at her door until she does, and she likes that. Of course I would never forget to come check on her but it doesn't matter. That's not what it's about. It's just something that we do. It's important to us to have that exchange. "I need you." "I'm here." "Don't forget to come check on me." "I won't, I promise."
She has four more days in elementary school before she leaves it forever, and it will be a memory for her like it is for me. The smells, the sounds, the feel of elementary school. I am incredibly proud of her. She's an amazing human being. She is happy, thoughtful, conscientious, smart, fun, funny, talented, sweet. She loves being a kid and is in no hurry to grow up. She thrived in elementary school and I know how critical it is that she did. So, while I cry a lot right now, and will for the next week or so, mostly I'm just grateful, something I feel a lot. She will look back on this time just like I do, with delight.
I know there will come a day that I'll pause at her doorway, and she won't say it.
Sometimes, after I've said "I won't, I promise" I think, briefly, about how I might like to have someone to whom I could say "Don't forget to come check on me." But it is brief. Because as soon as that thought flitters across my mind I dismiss it. For so many reasons. Maybe someday I'll let the thought linger and have it's say but not now, and probably not for another couple of years. Maybe someday I won't be so cynical and I'll have a little faith in the opposite sex. But not today or this month.