Just yesterday I held you
for the first time.
I was clinging so tightly
to my precious package,
this brand new person,
an untapped well, a blank slate.
You were
pure unadulterated possibility in my arms.

Just yesterday I heard you
speak your first word,
watched you take your first steps,
heard you hum your first tune,
watched you read your first book.
Learning something important and new
with each passing moment.
You were
soaking it all up like a sponge.

Just yesterday I sent you
out alone for the first time,
into the big wide world
of friends and oddballs, strangers and bullies,
into the complicated world
of girls and boys, of eithers and neithers,
into the terrifying world of technology, psychology, idealogy, mythology.
You were
bundled up, braced, and brave.

Just yesterday I watched you
as you drove away,
and I marveled at the passage of time,
and the gentle but fiercely forceful winds of change.
And I marveled at your strength and beauty and grace,
as I stood there thinking,
You were
just born,

just yesterday. And I held you.
So tightly.
And just like that, all in a flash, in a moment, a day…
You are grown.
An adult fully formed,
armed and ready
to take on the world.
And even though every day
I loosen my grip
just a tiny bit more,
it was just yesterday
that I held you, for the first time.
I held you so very tight.

…..