Our daughter has been part of her high school choir since she first got to the school. It's been an incredible experience for her, and it's become one of those things we wish she could bottle up and take with her after she graduates.
As any parent of a child in choir - or hockey, or swimming, or any other activity that involves showing up - knows, early morning practice is part of the deal. As they commit to pre-dawn wake-up calls, so, too, do mom and dad to making sure they get there on time.
Every time there's a concert or music night at school, her music teachers take a moment to thank parents and caregivers for driving them to early-morning practices and otherwise ensuring they get up and out of the house on time. But if we're being realistic, I don't understand why we need to be thanked in the first place.
The reality is I can't imagine it being any other way. The years where I'll be able to drive them to school, or pick them up from a program, or otherwise make sure they make it from Place A to Place B within Timeframe C are, as we all know, remarkably brief. The driving and more-complex-than-an-aircraft-carrier-deck scheduling are part of the deal we make when we decide to become parents in the first place, and I admit I rather enjoy being part of the barely-controlled chaos.
So this week, as she stepped out of the car and into the chilly early morning darkness, I waited and watched her as I always do until she made it inside and disappeared up the stairs. It's her last year of high school, so I've got a limited number of these early morning minutes with her before she moves into another chapter of her life.
And after she's gone to her final choir practice, I'll have plenty of opportunity to sleep in. But I admit I'll miss the early alarms, the quiet discussions as we get our stuff together in the kitchen, the feeling of dark chill that settles over us as we open the front door and step outside and head over to the car in the driveway.
If anything, I should thank her for the opportunity to have moments like these. I'll miss them when they're gone.
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2 comments:
I see your point, then again, I see why there is that extra need or reminder.. when I worked in the schools teachers would do the same... it was mainly for those parents who would grumble about having to do something for their children's classes... I know because I would hear some of those grumblings... in general, people don't realize that others can tell either verbally or thru body language... Also, 'little mouths' do speak.. :-)
When my son got his drivers license he was so happy because he wouldn't have to ask me to take him anywhere, like he thought it was a big ordeal for me. I assured him I loved it. I miss it!
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