Mother of a Teenager_ A Visit From The Past, Present and Future

The Landscape of a Heart 

I dropped my daughter off at school.  It was later in the morning.  It was calm and quiet not the usual harried and crowded. I was able to linger and watch her until she disappeared into the building. I focused on the heavy metal doors trying to see through them to watch her just one second more.  I did not drive away. I remained.  The weight of the overwhelming presence of the passage of time left me motionless. The business of the day lost its relevance. 
I remembered the first time I dropped her off at pre-school and how my heart ached as I left.  The reality that all things in life have a first and a last time made me push my foot harder on the break in a failed attempt to stop the passage of time.  The last day that I would bring her to school, tell her I love her, make sure she has her lunch and give her a kiss on her cheek as she hurries away was nearing.
My foot moved clumsily to the gas pedal.  I drove away slowly. I saw a man in the distance toss his little girl gleefully in the air and catch her with a hug and a kiss.  And there in my car, on an ordinary morning, I could feel every kiss, every hug, every birthday, every Christmas Eve and every wounded knee course through my body.  I mourned the passage of time and longed for one more minute from the days when I was her moon and stars. 
Elton John sang clearly from the radio, 
I hope you don’t mind
I hope you don’t mind 
That I put down in words.
How wonderful life is 
Now you’re in the world. 
And I cried like the estrogen-deprived mother of a teenager all the way home.