I don’t know if you’ll remember these days of being little.
But I’ll remember.
I’ll remember how beautiful it was to be your teacher when first you found your curiosity.
And I’ll remember how extraordinary it was for you to be MY teacher when I rediscovered mine.
I was the breakfast maker, still in my pajamas.
I was the picnic planner on warmer days.
I was the one who got to play with you. And the one who said “a little later” more than a little too often.
But I also sat in the audience and watched your brilliant imagination take flight.
You were the puppeteer.
And the actor.
You were the singer and dancer, too.
While I was the healer of the ouchies.
I was the storyteller to the storyteller.
The teacher of the artist.
And the one who got to sing and dance with you.
I was the one who let you disappear into your favorite movies — over and over again — so I could get a little done.
And always, always, always…I was the mama.
You thought I was the greatest, and I guess I’ll never know why.
I’ll remember how much I worried.
Would you stay safe? I wondered. Were we doing the right things? Making the best choices? Did you know how much we loved you?
And I hope you’ll remember our many adventures.
How we discovered dinosaurs and climbed mountains and laughed from the belly… often just in our own backyard.
And I hope you’ll remember that sometimes we hit the road instead, and we went wherever the wind might take us. You were still so little then, and other things got in the way of *just living life* a little less often.
I hope you’ll remember learning about the world. I’m sure you’ll look back and see that the world falls apart sometimes. But I hope you’ll remember that the world can also join together. That it’s possible. That it matters.
And oh, I hope you’ll remember all the love and the fun.
I hope you’ll remember how we blasted the music and danced in the kitchen.
I hope you’ll remember you were happy. We were all happy.
And I hope you’ll remember that you were my everything — safely tucked in at home, for a time.
The truth is, I don’t know if you’ll remember.
But I will.
And I promise you this…
The next time you feel like being little again, inside your mama’s arms…
The next time the world goes quiet for a time…
The next time you just need to remember something beautiful…
Just walk inside these doors, sweet child.
And there will be dancing.