It seems only yesterday that little N was four months old and I wrote her a poem. Now, with her fourth birthday barely a week away, I sometimes wonder if she was ever that small, and if yes, then when did she really grow up. For all the things she says, all the ways in which she shows her love for me, A and her pet brother, S; I find it hard to believe that I was actually capable of bringing something so beautiful to this world. While words can never truly capture the churn of emotions inside a mother's heart, even now as I pull her close, I already dread the day she will grow wings and fly out of my nest. And when I saw this ABBA song in a movie early today, it was as if someone had channeled my feelings into words..
"Slipping Through My Fingers"
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
I watch her go with a surge of that well known sadness
And I have to sit down for a while
The feeling that I'm losing her forever
And without really entering her world
I'm glad whenever I can share her laughter
That funny little girl
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sleep in our eyes, her and me at the breakfast table
Barely awake I let precious time go by
Then when she's gone, there's that odd melancholy feeling
And a sense of guilt I can't deny
What happened to the wonderful adventures
The places I had planned for us to go
Well, some of that we did, but most we didn't
And why, I just don't know
Slipping through my fingers all the time
I try to capture every minute
The feeling in it
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Do I really see what's in her mind
Each time I think I'm close to knowing
She keeps on growing
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Sometimes I wish that I could freeze the picture
And save it from the funny tricks of time
Slipping through my fingers all the time
Schoolbag in hand, she leaves home in the early morning
Waving goodbye with an absent-minded smile
Its hard to say goodbye to my doll everyday. Irrespective of how good or bad my day might have been, her little stories make it all worthwhile. And for the rest of my life, I will remember this.
