Your Firsts Are Mine, Too


Oh, the summer days grown out into the rusty blonde of sun-bleached hair! How the contrast of your messy, beachy top knot reminds me of my Little Fish, of hot summer days spent watching you throw yourself into the deep end of the salty pool only to determinedly swim your tiny self back to the edge. (And how many times ridiculous strangers asked if your enviable ombre hair color was natural!)

You can’t blame me, blame us, for not wanting to let go of that season. I suppose that summer always has to make way for fall, though, in the world and in our lives.

In so many ways your tangled, tousled mop has been so you from your first moments, Emma Vance. It has been a defining characteristic during these few short years you’ve been with us thus far. But sometimes the past gets in our way, blocks our view of what lies before us — sometimes literally. And, in those moments, the right thing is to take a deep breath and let go of those things that obstruct your view.

It’s okay to be sad as you let go.

It’s okay for those around you to be sad, too.

See, Little Fish, your firsts are mine, too. Your first cry made me a mommy; your first steps made me cheer; your first day of school made me let go just a bit; and your first hair cut made me teary, because, well, they were all just as much my memories as yours.

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