First Day of School

I just came back from dropping my children off to school this morning. They both looked so much more mature than they did last year when I dropped them off. They were bright and excited yet nervous at the same time.

They were sad that summer had flown by so fast and were wondering how school had come around so quickly. As they were eating breakfast, my son said to his sister, “I remember my first day of school ever when mommy dropped me off and as soon as I realised she was driving off, I screamed and tried my hardest to run to her.”

Hearing that story hurt my heart even though it was nine years ago now. Nine years ago and still it is on my son’s mind. When does the desire to protect our children from harm diminish? When does the yearning to put them in a cocoon and protect them from all the hurt they will experience in a lifetime go away? Does it ever?

I know they have to experience pain in order to appreciate the days when they have no pain and also to allow them to grow but I still would like to protect them somehow. Because I know I can’t, I know all I can do is raise them to be the best equipped they can for the times when they will experience pain. To help them to know that they are not alone in their struggle for growth. To allow them to know that everyone experiences periods of darkness.

We were very early this morning because we were all overexcited about the new beginning of the school year. And we did not want to get caught in the traffic that is inevitable for the first day of school. My daughter wanted the key to sit in the car at seven am. They’re not supposed to be at school until eight but the anticipation was too much to bear for her or my son.

They accepted that their summer was over and now it was time for them to start anew – each in a grade higher. Both nervous about the amount of homework they think they will get. Both nervous about their new teachers and whether they will get along. Both nervous about rekindling friendships with friends they had not seen over the summer. Both nervous about whether they will have to deal with bullies.

As soon as we drove through the school gates, the nervous chatter ceased and a silence enveloped the car. I glimpsed at them in the mirror and saw a mask of braveness come over their faces as they knew there was no turning back now. My son got out of the car first and was trying so hard to be tough that he didn’t even tell us goodbye. I had to remind him and then he whispered goodbye looking around at the small gathering of students there making sure none of them saw his mother blowing him a kiss goodbye.

Next was my daughter and for the first time she did not give me a kiss. She blew me one instead saying, “Bye mommy, love you.”

I drove away with a tear in my eye – hoping and praying that they are able to deal with whatever comes their way and that this first day of school sets the stage for a great year. Hoping and praying that they had a great summer that they could take those memories with them and be able produce at school. Understanding that with every ending there is a beginning – the end of summer, the beginning of a new school year. My children taking yet another step away from me and my husband as they walk towards their own independence and adulthood. Hopefully stronger, adequately equipped, and full of love.