Well this past week was a good reminder that life can change at any given moment and to be thankful for every day. Just over a week ago I found out that a friend of mine’s 18-month-old baby suddenly passed away. The news hit me hard. Maybe it was because of all the memories my friend and I have had together over the years, or maybe it was because I am a mom myself. Probably a mixture of both. Anyway, I just couldn’t stop thinking about her and her family, and how their world had been shattered. Everyone wanted to do something, but with grief on that level – what can you really do? The only thing I knew to do was hop on a plane and be there, with many hugs, at the service. I booked a last minute flight and, 12 hours later, I was on a plane headed to Washington D.C.

Working in the funeral profession has taught me a lot, but one of the things that stands out the most is to go to the funeral when you can, and this NPR story captures that message perfectly. Now I certainly had special circumstances that allowed me to travel over 1,000 miles away – Plenty of frequent flier miles to cover my airfare, time off work to spare, a husband’s flexible schedule so I didn’t have to think twice about Iris’ needs, and a knowledge of the city since I used to live there.

While it was a sad and emotional whirlwind of a trip, it was also so beautiful to see so many people remember such a sweet little soul. And as soon as I delivered my first of several hugs, I knew I was right where I was supposed to be.

Guess what I’ll be doing one month from today? Registering Iris for KINDERGARTEN! How did this happen? Where did my squishy, gap-toothed, too-much-hair-for-newborn baby go?! I fully acknowledge that I’m as cliche as it gets when I say this, but it’s all going too damn fast.

Now I know that registering Iris for her first “real” day of school is just dipping my toes in the waterfall of tears that will soon be the first day of kindergarten. Just like any other mom, I’m sure I will be a horrendous mess on the day she actually walks through those classroom doors, but as a mom to an only child, I might just take it to another level. For us, every “first” is also a “last”. Big life events are often a little extra bittersweet.

As for the big K, I know she’s ready. I’m so proud that she’s already very interested in reading and math – and she’s actually quite good for her age. But every night when we cuddle after our evening books, I wonder how many more years she’ll want me to “stay for just one more minute.” Or how many years until she doesn’t want me to lay with her at all? Recently she got her very own alarm clock, so now she gets herself out of bed and dresses herself. The first day was awesome. She was so excited when her Frozen clock blasted, “LET IT GOOOOO!” at 7 am (simultaneously also scaring the shit out of me across the hall). She popped right out of bed, slid on the clothes I laid out for her the night before, and was ready for her bowl of shredded mini wheats.

That lasted one day. Every morning since then, she grumpily turns off the alarm (presumably after it, now, scares the crap out of her too), and stumbles into our bedroom. “I want to keep sleeping,” she usually mumbles. “Welcome to the rest of your life,” I reply.

She’s growing up. There’s no stopping that. But I can embrace all the wonderful things that come with it – where she gains her independence and, once again, so do I.