Reason #2

Today, I am going to introduce a new segment to the blog called “reasons for not crying during your  daughter’s senior year of high school.”   (Note, the first reason I did not cry was the occasion of her senior pictures—blog post pending.  Also note, these posts about my girl are bound to get a bit braggy; she’s just such a star, I can’t help it.  She will hate it and so will my husband, but I’m not sorry.  I’ll be as proud as I want to be while I am not crying during the upcoming year).

The second reason I did not cry during Grace’s senior year happened on Tuesday night during her last ever varsity inter-city volleyball contest.  (Last ever!  Not crying).  I didn’t cry during the captain’s huddle because of course I never fantasized that my golden haired baby girl would go on to play a sport I had loved at the same school I had played for all those years ago (and be captain no less!).

I also didn’t cry when they announced the starting line ups and she stepped forward to wave, all tall and strong and confident.  I didn’t cry when she made a spectacular kill and the entire student section hooted “Luuuuuuuuuuuuuuueken” and one wild boy exclaimed “I love Lueken!”  While his buddies high fived on either side of him.

And I certainly didn’t cry in this absurd moment when she knelt to tie her shoe before delivering an ace serve.  (“Ace is in her name,” our friend is known to quip).

This would naturally be an absurd moment to cry, when she’s at risk of a delay of game call and every impatient eye in the gym is on her.  I wasn’t thinking about how I taught her to tie those shoes.  Or how I used to have to run onto the soccer field to tie them for her lest she suspend the game for ten painstaking minutes while she did it herself.  I didn’t blink and see those chubby fingers (now so long and elegant) endlessly practicing bunny ears, hopefully letting go of the laces and waiting expectantly to see if they would hold.  I wasn’t remembering the day when it actually did, and we laughed together, delighted and a little shocked.  I also wasn’t remembering that her first word was “toes”, uttered in confusion when I failed to pull her socks off one night with my usual, playful “toes toes toes” tickle ritual.   These would be a silly reasons to cry.  A beautiful girl bending to tie her shoes in the middle of a volleyball game does not make one cry.

I’m not crying, you’re crying.