On the eve of change

Change is in the air here in Seattle. Even with the sky blue and the sun warm today, there was still a hint of fall in the ether. We went to the Tilth Harvest Fair and then to the Lavender Kindergarten blessing ceremony, two markers for changes to come. Endings and beginnings all bleeding into each other. When people ask Lucy how she feels about starting kindergarten, she says she is excited to play but sad to leave me and Jasper. I am sad too. She, Jasper and I are like a three-celled organism. We breathe through the days together, each within our own sphere and with our own activities, but circling around and connecting throughout the day. I am excited for Lucy to have more experiences of other people and of the beauty and wonder of the world outside of our family context, but I am wistful about the years we've been primarily a unit to ourselves. I love her independence and her neediness; her strength and her sadness, her fierce desires and hunger for stimulation and stories, and her ability to lose herself in a quietly whispered story as she dreamily moves through the house and outside. I love the multi-patterned outfits she creates, the knots she ties in everything, the trail of debris from her play that is everywhere - shoes, scraps of paper, cards, pens, dolls, half-eaten plums, clothes, dishes, books, any number of toys and non-toys - all evidence of a five-year-old life well-lived. She told me a few nights ago that she loves me more than anyone loves anyone. I have never felt so blessed and lucky.