The first day of school is still extremely hard for me. I have to stay busy to keep my mind off of all my worries. In 15 years of school for the boy, he’s always had a good first day. Same for the 12 years with the girl (I’m counting preschool). In those years, we’ve had many bad days. Way too many bad days for the boy in elementary school, but he never cried when he left for school. Even with all the bad days, I only recall there being a handful where he’d cry the night before that he didn’t want to go the next day. Yet, every day, he got up and went. Same for the girl. She sheds more tears over grades than what’s happening at school. I think that they each have only asked to not go to school once in their whole school careers due to worries.
Then there’s me. I still cry. When the kids were in elementary school and I would walk them to school, there would be days I would cry on my walk home. When I started to drive them, at least once a week, I would cry when they got out of the car. Now, I cry almost daily when they pull out of the driveway. I cry for so many reasons. I cry because I know they’re worried about tests. I cry because I miss the time that I have left. I cry because I’m so proud of how far they’ve come. I cry because of how much they have left to go. I cry because there are so many things out of my control. Most of the time, I don’t know why I’m crying. When they aren’t with me, there’s a part of me that’s missing. No matter what else is going on, I love having my family with me, knowing they are safe. I used to wonder why my parents stood by the door as I was leaving to wave goodbye to me. Now, I get it. They just wanted that extra few seconds to still feel connected.
So, if you see me standing on my porch crying, know that I’m just trying to hold on to the time that I have left. I’ll take all the extra seconds with them that I can get.