Today, should have been Kyra’s first day of preschool. Over the last few weeks, I have seen pictures of my friends’ children on their first day. These parents are celebrating milestones with their children – how old they are, what grade they are in, what they want to be when they grow up. And, it leaves me wondering: What would Kyra be like today? Would orange still be her favorite color? What would she want to be when she grew up? With Kyra, I’m sure her first response would have been something that would have made me laugh, like dinosaur chaser or rock jumper.
I see pictures of her friends. They have lost their toddler faces and have become little girls and boys. It makes me think, what would Kyra look like today? Would her face have changed? I know she would be beautiful at any age in my eyes, but I will wonder. I will always wish she was with us. Instead, her image is frozen in time.
Kyra would have loved preschool. She loved being around other children and was an incredibly social toddler. I remember touring the preschool with Kyra. We walked into the class and a little girl with long blonde hair came right up to Kyra and said, “Hi, my name is Abigail.” Kyra responded by immediately giving Abigail a big hug. Within a minute, they were best pals and started painting in the corner together.
I know that on the first day of preschool, I would have been outside with tears in my eyes as I brought her to class. Kyra would have jumped into the room to play. Knowing Kyra, she would not have looked back or worried about me, she would have just been ready for her next adventure. At the end of the school day, I am sure she would have been begging me to let her stay and play with her new friends.
I think about what it would have been like to have been able to watch Kyra grow this past year. Every day when the school bus stops and lets the kids off at the end of the day, I know Kyra won’t come home to me with stories about her day. I won’t get to watch Kyra grow and evolve into the beautiful young woman I know she would have been. And, even though my heart still hopes that this is an awful dream that I will wake up from, I know that Kyra is never coming home.