This summer has been so many adventures, filling our memory banks with stories, discoveries, development and love. Road trips, beaches, learning to swim, lakes, boats, picnics, day trips, Peter Pan reenactments, iced hibiscus tea, barbecue parties, turning our songs up loud, chalk pictures, gardening, and many more snippets that together tell the story of a summer I hope never to forget. Each girl became so much more herself, showing the world and I of what magic she is made.
And then there are Hailey and Robin. This week, I will pack two new lunch boxes, stuff them into two new backpacks, put them on comically teeny backs, and walk hand-in-hand (I hope) to school. I will hug them, kiss them, tell them I'll be right there at the end of the day, that I love them, that they're ready, that this will be so much fun, and then I will watch them walk into the outstretched hand of their teacher, and they will be in school. They will spend six and a half hours of their waking day with other people, not me, and though I know they are ready, and this is good progress, I want to keep them with me. Their little hands fit so well in mine.
I am still learning from them. I am still watching nature and nurture debates play out between my identical twins on a regular basis. I am still learning to listen to Hailey's soft, quiet voice. I am still learning to see Robin's eyes follow a conflict in front of her so that I can step in before a sister fight erupts. I am still learning to sit and be with them, watching them play and imagine. I have so much to learn about patience and love and gratitude that I don't want to relinquish their presence in my house all day long.
|First day of Grade 2|
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay." -Robert Frost