Yesterday my Baby (young adult) graduated from college. As I sat there watching her stand in line to receive her Bachelors Degree, all I could think about was how fast she grew up, and how independent she has always been, and how much she has always LOVED school. I remembered one rainy morning when she was in first grade. We stood on the front porch waiting for the bus. It began to pour down rain just as the bus stopped at the end of our driveway. As she ran to get on the bus she fell down in the mud. It broke my heart that she fell, scuffed up her hands and knees, was covered in mud and everyone on the bus saw it. I was so afraid for her to get on that bus, afraid that everyone would laugh and make fun of her. Not knowing the extent of her injuries I begged her to come back. I wanted to check her out, make sure that she wasn't hurt, change her clothes, and I would have taken her to school. She said "I'm ok mama" as she brushed off her knees and ran to the bus. My emotions yesterday were the same as they were that rainy morning, an extreme fear of letting her go, but an abundant amount of pride.
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