Everyone said it would happen.
I knew it would eventually.
Even though I fought it.
Pushed it down inside.
Prayed it would last forever.
But it didn’t.
I believed I would see it in snipets.
Snapshots over a series of days, strung out to months.
But it happened with one shot.
I stepped back to capture her.
Just like always.
The flash sizzled and I checked the view finder.
And I teared up.
She wasn’t there.
The little girl that I once knew.
She had been replaced.
With the most amazing young lady.
It’s been three summers now.
I never understood why my mother continues to call me her baby.
34 years after delivering me.
I do now.
And it brings me to tears.
I don’t regret the time I didn’t have her.
It’s five years of her life, I’ll never know.
I regret not diligently watching every moment,
to know exactly when she stopped being little.
And started being a lady.