For Lucy

I had all of these fun things for us to do today - the first Saturday of fall.  But you wanted to meet up with a group of friends.  

Of course you did.  

And of course I wanted to say no!

But I said yes.  

(A little grudgingly.  I'm working on that.)     

So....you're off playing and having pizza for lunch and I'm staying busy with laundry and thinking of you.  

I'm thinking that when you're a mom someday, you'll like doing laundry.  Because you can put a load in every half hour or so, and then do something else.  And you'll feel good about that something else because you'll tell yourself:  I'm actually doing laundry.     

And maybe, when you're a mom someday, you'll know what it's like to watch your baby girl turn twelve years old.  

Maybe you'll know the tender swell of emotion that rises in your heart as you tuck her into bed on her last day of elementary school. 

Maybe you'll kiss her sleeping cheek and then dig through old photos to find her first day of elementary school smile.  

And you'll smile back at that little face through your tears, thinking what a truly beautiful young woman your curly haired cherub is becoming.  

And you'll try to enjoy as many wonderful summertime moments with her as possible, 

knowing that junior-high-high-school-college is on the immediate horizon.  

You'll go through all the motions of preparing.  You'll buy the new uniforms (cringing at the over-priced gym shorts), you'll try to mentally juggle the pending homework and extra-curricular activities, and you'll pray and pray for her to have good friends.

Maybe you'll ponder a little more than necessary about shoes and shampoos and blow dryers.  You might even consider razors, but then hastily rule them out, hoping that your beautiful pre-teen keeps hair on her beautiful cross-country toned legs as long as possible.  

What I really, really hope is that maybe you'll know what it's like to lay next to your darling, beloved daughter the night before her first day of seventh grade, reading picture books like "The Kissing Hand."  

Maybe you'll both cry steadily through every page.  

Tears of p u r e  l o v e.

How I love you, Lucy.

I loved watching you in your first school musical last spring.  

 

Singing in the Rain

I loved trailing you around Disneyland last winter.

(Especially that time you and I ditched a way-too-long Buzz Light Year line in favor of sharing ice cream,

soaking in the beautiful day, and walking through Sleeping Beauty's castle,

reminiscing together about when you were a much littler girl.

Those Fantasyland memories are treasures. 

But Adventureland has always been your favorite.  

(Also churros.)

(You love churros.)

We rode Autopia for your first time ever, and sitting in the passenger seat next to you was a total flash forward.  Three and a half years until you are my official grocery shopper!

Your birthday in May was such a lovely day. 

It was a lovely month, really - perpetual celebrating for weeks.  

Some events were traditional, like BYU's Astro-fest with Heather and Royce.

(and Otis!)

 (Including the traditional loss of Spencer's rocket in a tree.)

But other birthday events were brand new and long-awaited.  Like your Beehive class picking you up for an outing to the ice-cream parlor, and your first several trips to the temple.  

The Crippens brought over a pink rose on your birthday and a gift certificate to the Roof (!) so that you and I could enjoy dinner at a spot they knew was memorable to me and Dad.  

We watched "Mountain of the Lord" before our dinner date and you loved it - for all the reasons I remember loving it when I first saw it as a 12 or 13 year old.

We so much enjoyed our fancy meal overlooking temple square.  The light from the western windows lit up your blue eyes so beautifully as we talked, and I hope that image of you lasts in my memory for a long time.  

After dinner, we walked over to the SL temple baptistry, and sitting together amid the peace and white of that beautiful pioneer temple was one of my sweetest moments to date.

Over Memorial Day weekend, we went to the Draper temple with your grandparents and Truman cousins.  

That was beautiful, too.

And of course you love our own Payson temple.  It's been the backdrop of half of your life, and you often get up early to visit the baptistry before school with your friends.

You went to girls camp for the first time in July, you occasionally baby-sit for our neighbor's small boys, you read your scriptures regularly, and you don't write in your journal nearly enough.

Neither do I.

But let's help each other, girl!

I remember one beautiful afternoon last spring when Spencer was riding his go cart up and down the side walk, and you and I were laying on a picnic blanket in the front yard, reading a little, talking a little, but mostly just being together.  Tears stung my eyes for a moment as I lay next to you - tears of imense gratitude for the treasured companionship we share.  I love you, darling girl.