The Girl in the Rearview Mirror

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

This is her first time in a car. She’s sleeping soundly after recovering from her grand entrance into the world. We’ve just met, but I already love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.

“We’ve just met, but I already love her more than I’ve ever loved anyone in my life.” (tweet this)

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

She can’t stop talking about how much fun she had at school. She loves her teacher. She loves her new friends. She loves music class. She loves laughing with her friends at lunch.  I’m so proud of her as she begins this great adventure. But my heart aches a little bit.

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

She’s sitting with her two besties. They are singing and talking and taking selfies. The freckles sprinkled across her nose are those of my little girl, but her legs are bumping against the back seat. She’s not a baby, but she’s not a grown up. I watch her stumble a lot, and it’s hard. But I’m proud of the young lady she’s becoming.

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

She isn’t talking as much these days. She sits quietly in the back seat texting her friends. It seems that I’m always dropping her off somewhere. I wish she was home more often. I miss her.

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

She’s quiet on the four hour drive to college. Almost everything she owns is in the trunk. I tell her everything is going to be great, but my heart is ripping apart. I’m not ready for this.

There’s an empty spot in the rearview mirror.

There used to be a girl there that I love more than anything in the world. She has her own car now. She lives in the city and has a job that she loves. She calls me every Sunday and comes for dinner once a month. I miss her terribly, but I’m so, so proud of her.

There’s a girl in the rearview mirror.

She has freckles sprinkled across her nose and she calls me grandma.

Image: Sam Manon-Marwitz