This is it. My eldest daughter’s last day of public school. How could that be? I remember so well her first day of kindergarten, and if I was organized enough I would be able to find one of the many pictures I took that morning.
I couldn’t understand the mothers who went to Tea and Tissues with the principal after teary goodbyes, reluctantly allowing their children to finally enter the classroom, some of the kids crying too. This was a milestone! School was what we had been preparing for and working toward for the past five years, ever since the little bundle met us. She attended preschool for a couple of years, to gradually get her ready. We happily helped her learn her letters and colors, so she wouldn’t go in at a disadvantage. She was a social child, so no worries there. The day arrived and she went to her new classroom with curiosity and a smile and I pushed her sister’s stroller home, a bounce in my step.
There have been a few rough patches between that day and this. I have been disappointed in grades at times, but never in my child. Teachers have been great and not so great. Friendships have come and gone, hearts have been hurt, more lessons have been learned than were in the school curriculum. Triumphs and tragedies; all were so important in the moment and forgotten in the blur now.
Today was a little different in tone than that day so long ago. Instead of picking out her outfit and helping her dress, brushing her hair and assisting her as she loaded her new backpack, I stood in a quiet kitchen making the last school lunch that I ever would for her. She breezed down the stairs and packed it up and was out the door and driving away before I could snap one picture.
Maybe my Tea and Tissues day was just delayed thirteen years.