On our way to errands. Listening to music. The girls in their carseats with books in their hands.
Suddenly, my 3-year-old says, “I wish I could fly.”
I turn off the radio, “Me too. That would be fun. Where would you go?”
She answers, “To Disneyland or the forest or something.”
I reply, “Wouldn’t that be exciting? We’d fly right by the big airplanes and wave at the people inside.”
“Yes,” she says matter-of-factly, “Just like angels.”
[I’ve never talked to her about angels before.]
Her words made me catch my breath because she is seriously growing up. 4 years old in less than 2 months!?! Before I blink, I know she’ll be spreading her wings, wobbling out of the nest. Little by little. And I will – heart is thump-THUMPing – have to let go. Will I have taught her enough (about manners, math, hard work, happiness, laundry, languages, love, life…)? Talked to her enough? Listened to her intently enough? Will these “flying lessons” that I am giving her be enough to help her weather the storms ahead?
These questions linger in my mind as the city passes by my windows, as I sing the lyrics of a 90s song that is stuck in my head.
Today, she is dreaming about flying. Tomorrow – though she doesn’t know it yet – she’ll be in the air, flying all on her own…waving at me, smiling. Just like an angel.
How old is your oldest child? If you could have any “super power,” what would you choose?