My big girl’s play was today. I missed the 1 p.m. performance. I had a meeting I couldn’t get out of.
She was the narrator. She was supposed to run onto the stage and start the play. Instead of running, though she tripped, or so my mother and husband told me. She went down hard, they said, hitting her side and her face. Amazingly, she got right back up again and started saying her lines. She didn’t cry. She didn’t fuss. She took the old stage adage — the show must go on — to heart, I guess. She is six. That’s pretty incredible in my book.
I wonder how she would have reacted if I was there. I get so nervous when stuff like that happens. My heart would have twisted just like it did when I heard about the mishap. It would have shown it on my face, too. I may have gotten a bit misty, my heart hurting for her. Maybe she would have cried if she saw me cry? Probably.
I got to go to the 7 p.m. show. I got there super-early so I could grab a front row center seat. I sat and watched her read her lines and was in awe of that little girl. When did she become so articulate? When did she get so BIG? And even later, when a huge crash of thunder and lightening caused the lights to flicker and I saw fear cross my baby’s face, I was still impressed. She is not a fan of the dark. (I wasn’t, either, well into my 20s, actually.) Her hands went up to her mouth. Her eyes got big. She fidgeted. I could tell all she wanted to do was run into my arms. But she continued. She finished the play. With the thunder booming all around us and the threat of a black out very real, and yet she did it.
At the end of the show she came to stand in front of me and I grabbed her and pulled her onto my lap, squeezing her extra tight and telling her how proud I was of her. She beamed. We left that school two very happy people. On the way home she got quiet, though. She sighed and said how sorry she was that the play was over. She loved doing it, she said. And then she asked if we could get ices. I was sorry it was over, too, I told her. And yes, we could get ices. I didn’t tell her that I was tearing up realizing that another year was over and there was no way to stop time to keep her a little girl for a little while longer.
Are you looking forward to the summer? Have any teary moments with your kids lately? Would love to hear about them.