June 8

Today was Abby's last dress rehearsal for a dance recital. 

Although she's perfectly capable of transporting herself these days, she asked me to drive her to Dublin High, and I obliged. 

I've not had many overtly emotional responses to the string of Lasts that my girl has experienced in recent weeks; truth be told, all I've really felt was a brief wave of emotion when I spotted her walking onto the football field at graduation last week. So I was a little surprised when, as she and her giant class of "Grease Medley" girls trooped onto the stage this afternoon, I felt a twinge in my chest. Last time watching her rehearse. It was surreal, like a jaunt in territory that's familiar yet not entirely so. 

But in a way, it wound up feeling strangely continuous, too, because Nikki was there, sitting next to me, when Abby's class ran through their number. And I was still sitting next to her when, moments later, Dani and her class of fluffy ducklings clattered on stage for their official run-through. 

It's poetic that Dani's first year of dance is Abby's last. It almost feels like Abby is handing her a baton as Dani goes to kindergarten and she heads off to college. 

It makes it better for me, somehow, even if I'm not entirely sure why it makes it better. And for that, I am grateful.