Keep breathing.

Tomorrow's lunch is packed & her book bag sits ready by the back door.

Energy was high at bedtime tonight. As she laid out her carefully chosen outfit that matches her new, size 2 sneakers, her faced beamed. Outside, we could hear Clay's car pulling in the driveway. Home from a very long day at work Clay was greeted by his daughter eager to discuss her preparations for her first day of kindergarten. "Daddy! Dad! Daddy!" she flung open the door as he pulled up the driveway. She still hangs on him like she did when she was a toddler, wrapping her arms around his waist, stepping on top his feet, challenging him to move against her embrace. Her excitement was contagious. Clay & I beamed back at her as she reviewed her teacher's name & the other students sharing her assigned table. There was no doubt, she was ready.

I watched as she brushed her teeth & wiped her face. I watched as she got ready for bed & tossed her clothes down the laundry shoot. I watched as she lined up her stuffed animals on her bed in a systematic order (inherited OCD from me). She was so self sufficient, responsible. Growing up. I found my self staring at her eyes. Still the same deep brown, wide-open eyes she's had since she was a baby. She's just so beautiful, so curiously beautiful. I pray she stays that way, curious with a big, beautiful heart.

I watched as she scanned her books for a bedtime story, slightly bracing myself for an over-read Disney or Barbie book. Laying back on her floor, I closed my eyes and sighed. A few seconds later, I felt her poke my hand with a hard cover book. To my surprise she chose the picture book I made for her about her birth. Yep, still my baby.

We squeezed onto the little twin bed that I once slept in and I began to read the story about the day "Emmersen Lee came to be". She nuzzled her nose against my cheek, "Mom, I really love you." I reached out for her hand. She drapped her long, skinny legs over mine. "I love you, too, buddy."

We finished her story like that, holding hands and legs intertwined. Part of me wanted to lay there all night. Just holding her like I used to, in the wee hours of the morning, sleep deprived in the rocking chair, feeling my baby breath.

In the morning, I will keep breathing as I drop her off at school. I'll smile & bask in her enthusiasm. I'll hold her giddiness close in my thoughts. And I will keep breathing as I drive away knowing I did my best to prepare her...because her tremendous love told me so.