Slipping through my fingers..

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.