I see you standing in the twilight zone with your baby days behind you as you are about to step into the new light of being a young girl. In this twilight, you say you’re a “big girl”, yet never too big to fit perfectly in my arms.
In this twilight, you know colors well. You carefully pick out your hair-ties to match your outfit for the day. Yet you don’t understand the many shades of grey that life is made up of.
In this twilight, you can tell breakfast apart from lunch and lunch apart from dinner. Yet you can never really tell when you’re hungry.
In this twilight, you can take care of your little brother. You play baby games with him, while I hurry up with the chores. Yet you become the baby yourself when he picks up your favourite book.
In this twilight, you know right from wrong. You point out that it’s wrong on my part to raise my voice at you. Yet you never hold a grudge against me, my sweet child. You’d happily start a pillow-fight with me the very next minute, forgetting all about our actual fight.
In this twilight, you have learnt to keep promises. You’d stick to one toy in the shopping centre if we’ve agreed on that back at home. Yet you’d bargain for the entire book to be read before bedtime, “promising” to keep to ‘just one page’ the following night.
In this twilight, you understand numbers well. You raise your fingers to show me how five and five make a ten. Yet, you can’t count the number of times in a day you fill my heart with pride.
In this twilight, you ask me questions about everything around you. You even boast of the answers you might already know. Yet you don’t know that I question the purpose of my very existence in this world, was it not for you.
In this twilight, I miss you being my baby. Yet I love watching you grow every day. And when this time passes us by and I look back, I might realize that the most spectacular views of my life were in fact during this twilight.