I had the most bizarre feeling standing over a toilet yesterday morning.

That sounds gross. Let me back up.

Dragon Daughter, my middle child, was moments away from receiving her First Communion. She had asked to use the restroom one last time before the ceremony. There we were, crowded in a stall, me holding the length of her long white dress, coaching her how to sit down so the organza fluff wouldn’t fall into the toilet, cautioning her to be careful with her veil. Telling her how very proud I was of her.

I swallowed when I realized that this same moment might happen in the future.

If I am lucky enough to live a long life…If she is lucky enough to fall as deeply in love with someone as I have…Maybe, just maybe, we’ll again be cramped together in a bathroom stall, me gathering up the layers of her dress, holding tight to her veil, telling her not to be nervous, that she’ll do great, that I’m so very, very proud of the person she has become.

I was so grateful to share in this moment with her yesterday. And I hope I am lucky enough to have another.