So Long My Little Angel
Boy don’t you know you can’t escape me
Ooh darling coz you’ll always be my baby
So today I’m doing the laundry, as I usually do on weekends. But it’s not quite the usual laundry I do.
I’m folding up the yellow school shirts in size 10 that have been my eldest’s staple for the past few years now, and I realize it is the last batch of laundry I will be doing for his primary school uniforms.
I’ll be putting away the little P.E. shorts and the royal blue jacket that has his classmates’ names printed on the back as a memento of the Graduating Class of 2010.
All at once I am transported to the fun days of Kinder, dressing up as Thomas the Tank Engine for a book parade. Seems so long ago, labouring over a box pasting blue and red paper over it, putting on a blue jumper (sweater) on my son and getting him to wear the long black cardboard rolled up into a hat that was the little smoke pipe. The joys of motherhood!
My first born. The first to navigate the challenging world of school, ever-brave, ever-competent. The one who always made his piano teacher proud (“He’s never let me down, and of course, he’s never let himself down!”), and of course Mum, Dad and grandparents whenever he got an A in his piano exams. The best speller in his grade level always. Already programming little games, and editing his own special effects movies all by teaching himself on the net when he was in Grade 5.
My quiet achiever. My little Angel.
In a box by his bed is his new set of secondary school uniforms, led by a very grown-up blazer which he’ll be wearing over shirt and tie. It’s like his little cocoon, as he’s now in that stage of being a pupa, getting ready to grow his wings. And at the end of this time, when he sheds his high school uniform, he’ll be my Angel with wings. Ready to test things out for flying, and then soaring, all on his own.
I know that time will come.
But for now I want you to know, you may not be so little anymore, but you’ll always be my Baby.
I am proud of you, Angel.
