If I had not been in the seat next to her, I would not have believed it. My daughter is now driving; the one I rocked, and sang to, and tickled, and with whom I enjoyed many tea parties, has taken yet another step toward independence. I have to ask again, “Is it true?”
And so it is. The picture proves it all.
I know I sound like my parents or my grandparents when I ask, “How is this possible?” Various family members and friends have warned me about the fleeting moments, and that this day would be here in a snap. So here it is. Right before my eyes, my little one is no longer little.
While this is a sampling of an imminent greater sadness – a sadness that will come when she takes that final step away from the protection and warmth of the arms of her mother and her father, I have also been filled with a magnificent and overwhelming revelation of pride.
I do not speak of the pride a painter has when he has labored to complete the masterpiece. Nor do I point to the pride a sailor feels when he has rushed his ship headlong into a squall, and emerged from its clutches with his life and his ship. The pride I feel is different. I think it is the pride that a mother duck must feel when she sees a new desire in the eyes of her duckling; it is the desire for independence.
I sit in the passenger seat now as the father duck, proud as can be of a duckling taking her step away. I thank my God for this adventure through which he has led me, and continues to lead me. He promises never to leave nor forsake. For this, I praise His wonderful Name.