It seems like only yesterday that I was painting your fingernails and putting bows in your hair. I didn’t have sisters to play dress-up with and mom worked long hours during the week. So you indulged me…after all, I was and will always be your little girl. We put together cars for the annual soap box derby and struggled through art and science projects together. You dropped me off and picked me up from school every single day and never once hesitated to come get me when I was sick. You taught me how to ride a bike and tried to get me to pick up your love for fishing. You taught me not to be afraid of roller coasters and the ocean.
It seems like only yesterday that you were teaching me how to drive. I had to learn how to drive a manual transmission, of course, and you know how much I didn’t want to learn on that car. You were a driving instructor for many years “back in the day” and you knew best. Years later I admitted that your instruction came in handy when our car with the automatic transmission broke down and I was forced to remember how to gently work the clutch and the gas…and that year when Jason and I moved to Europe. I even taught him a thing or two.
It seems like only yesterday that you were walking me down the aisle, entrusting your only daughter to another man to take care of. We danced and celebrated that bittersweet day, knowing that though our relationship would be different, I would always be your little girl.
It seems like only yesterday that I was back in your home…my childhood home…pregnant with your grandson. You made me meals and took me to doctor appointments. You talked to me and offered support. You listened and allowed me to cry as I spent those 5 fearful months on bedrest. And when that beautiful, healthy, brown-eyed baby was born, you were right there, celebrating the incredible blessing and miracle that is life.
It seems like only yesterday we were jet-setting with mom and the two kids in tow to Orlando to experience the magic of Walt Disney World. You had always wanted to take me, but there never seemed to be a good time. What a magical trip that was (even to this day my son talks about “the biggest Disneyland he’s ever seen.” We walked (oh how we walked) and ate and laughed and reveled in the magic of that place.
There have been so many incredible “yesterdays…” Moments of laughter and tears, joy and sorrow…I want to permanently etch them in my memory, yet I feel them quickly slipping away.
Today I sit here heartbroken over how quickly those “yesterdays” go by. I am not one who’s ever lived in the past. Yet for once, I want to go back to yesterday, when you were healthy and active and happy and vibrant and full of life…