Egads, where'd my baby go?

It seems as if only yesterday my little girl, dressed in a size 3T pink leotard, was giving us private recitals in the living room. Now here she is...hitting the big stage...and loving every minute of it.

Last September we were blessed to find a wonderful group of Christian homeschoolers, called Stage Lefters, who meet weekly throughout the school year to create a theatrical production. This was their seventh season, and it was their most ambitious project, The Music Man, complete with exuberant singing, enthusiastic dancing, and a real live band. Elena won the part of Zaneeta Shinn, the mayor's daffy daughter who runs around with the town badboy. Let me tell you, she played it just a little too well for her daddy's taste. She lit up the stage with her radiant face.

I had one mom tell me, "Your daughter is so good at being a ditzy flirt." Why, thank you. I think.

She's been in productions before, but this was the best and most fun, and now she is firmly convinced that her future belongs on the stage. (Egads!) She can't quite figure out what second degree equations and present participial phrases have to do with that future...just bring on the music and drama. Oh yes, we know all about drama in this household with six females. Oh yes.

After the high brought on by four spectacular performances earlier this month, she was facing nothing but a long, lonely summer of catching up on a few subjects and counting down the days until the first rehearsal of the next play. So I sent her off to a week of choral camp, followed by her first high school youth conference at Franciscan University. She's in Steubenville as I write this, hopefully fast asleep. (She'd better be.)

Ten years ago, I escorted a group of kids, including my youngest sisters, two cousins, two nieces and a nephew, to one of those conferences. It was a life-changing event for my sisters, who both embraced their faith deeply that weekend and later graduated from FUS, where they also met their amazing husbands. Elena, who was only five, joined us for the closing Mass of the conference, and I remember thinking that someday she would be old enough to attend one herself. Someday seemed so far away. It wasn't. I'm praying that the Holy Spirit touches her soul in a meaningful and lasting way this weekend as she continues her journey of becoming a beautiful young woman.

The night before she left, I sat in her bedroom as she was packing, and she gave me one of the sweetest gifts I've ever received. Excited and a bit nervous, she was peppering me with questions about what to expect, when she suddenly looked me in the eyes and gently said, "I wish you were coming with me."

Be still, my heart. I don't suppose there are a whole lot of high school girls who wish their mothers would accompany them to a weekend away, where there are bound to be a plethora of cute Catholic boys. Whoever said they didn't enjoy the teenage years never had the blessing of raising my Elena.

Gosh, I'm going to miss her. And I'm not just talking about the rest of the weekend.