“One, two, three! Say, ‘Cheese!’”
About two months ago, senioritis was so ripe in our home you could smell it. The pressure was thick; everything felt like a countdown. One more AP test, one more meeting, one more honors ceremony, and then he’s finally done.
In all of that brilliance, this mom realized she hadn’t scheduled senior pictures for her precious firstborn. Thankfully, he entertained me amidst his exhaustion. During the session, my son was so tired, and I was so desperate to get THAT smile.
You mamas know the one. The one they gave you when they first rode a bike, conquered the monkey bars, mastered their first solo, passed their driver’s test. The one you slowly feel they’re outgrowing . . . that one.
I was so desperate during his senior photo session that I started making silly faces in the background and doing cheer-like jumps (I am too old for this and was never a cheerleader) when suddenly, the lens was on me because she wanted to help me document that it was ME who finally got that genuine smile out of him. And we laughed and skipped rocks and enjoyed the moment.
The night of his graduation, I saw it again, completely unprompted and unbidden. I recently went back to work after my dad passed away following a long trek with ALS. I am now a middle school counselor, and in the district where I work, all district employees are allowed to hand their graduates their diplomas. All year long, I looked forward to that moment. Never did I imagine I’d get THAT smile as he walked toward me on that stage, but there it was; THAT smile. It was heaven.
And you know what I kept thinking that night? I’ll forever be the one who holds every stage of his smile. The toddler, toothless one; the one with glasses; the one behind the Little League helmet and the fear of the first choir concert. The one they give you in the middle school awards assembly when they finally see your face. The one where they parallel park for the first time. I’m the keeper of them all, and it might only be in my mind, but what a treasured gift I hold. Yes, I’m sad, but mamas, these kids are so ready. They have overcome so much (as have we) in their young lifespans, and look at what we get to see, all from the front row of life.
So, mamas, to those of you attempting cheer jumps behind the cameras, making the favorite recipes, checking off the dorm needs list, preparing to launch your kids into the world, know you’re not alone. We are the memory makers because those memories will forever exist in our minds. Let’s hold onto those smiles and capture a million more, because there is so much yet to come. Let’s go, mamas. We’re still here.
P.S. Don’t forget to get in the pic every once in a while. Your eyes on them will be memories they cherish long after you remember them.
by Colin Morris 
by Shauna Wallace 
