Transformation

My daughter came down the stairs the other day and looked visibly older. I am still trying to wrap my head around this event.

The occasion was her sixth birthday, and that morning she actually looked like a six year old, where the previous day she looked all of five. It’s a subtle difference, but when you live with somebody, especially a child, small changes not only take on great significance, but are also perhaps more pronounced.

Even after learning how quickly things go, and resolving to do better to capture the time and revel in their youth and innocence, it still goes by too quickly. Each day is an instant that seems to drag on forever, yet somehow adds up to little more than a blink of an eye.

Just the other day it seemed she was born, toddling around the house chasing after her big brother. Now August and Déla are 8 and 6, respectively, children, and not just “young children” but in the full throws of childhood and all the issues that come with it. Friendships, school, activities, familial relationships, interests, and so much more. The world is opening up to them, I want to guide them, help them navigate the horrors of the outside world that encroaches both invited and not into our sanctuary through television programs, the computer, what friends say on the playground, sirens, etc. But I can’t. I have to let that go, do what I can, and hope for the best.

She had a huge smile on her face when she came downstairs that day, her sixth birthday. It was almost as if she was somewhat aware of the challenges that lie ahead for her, eager to take them on. Because she was a big girl. She had finally turned six.