Today, August 22 is the last first day of school for my oldest child. I remember finding out, when he started kindergarten, he would be in the class of 2020. It seemed light years away. So far down the road. When he was in first grade, he and members of his future graduating class walked across the football field as part of the homecoming football game festivities. Two kids stood on either side of a banner that read, Baby Wildcats Class of 2020.
His high school senior year was always so far down the road until, it wasn't. When he was a sophomore, I thought, "Oh, that's two years away." Then when he was a junior, it was getting eerily close, but it was still a year away. Now - there is no where to run or hide. It is here and it doesn't take much for waterworks to flow.
I am not really sure the exact reason I cry. He is my first graduate-to-be so I am sure that plays a part. There is also the age factor. "I can't possibly be old enough to have a child that is going to be finishing high school." Then there is the diminishing mom role. "He isn't going to need me anymore."
Yes, I sound like a lady that has a lot of issues but please, cut me some slack. I've never done this before. I want to be happy about this year of lasts but I'm an emotional kind of gal.
I've got a tear reserve that you wouldn't believe. I cried so hard after seeing the blockbuster movie Titanic you would have thought I knew Jack and Rose personally. I cry during animated movies, Hallmark commercials and a song on the radio can trigger a double tissue moment. (My husband is a lucky guy, right?)
I know I'm not alone right now. It's not like I have a kid who is going to Mars. Other parents have been through this and many more will go through it after me. But just when I think I've got a handle on things, something triggers my reserve. A letter from the school - your deposit for your cap and gown is due. A Facebook post about the band senior banner pictures. Picking out a shirt for his last first day of school. Ugh....
So yes, today is going to be tough. But I am going to have to put together a strategy to survive the next ten months. I'll be asking around to see how others made it through but apparently, I need to focus on the realities which have been clouded by the emotions.
1. My son will still need me - let's face it. He doesn't have his license yet. He doesn't cook real well and knowing where things are - not his strong suit.
2. He has worked hard. He deserves to see where this year will take him. I tried to talk him out of calculus and into an easier class but he didn't want to hear it. That says something. Who knows what choices he'll make that will result in a door opening for him. It's like waiting to find out what new shows/movies will drop on Netflix at the start of a new month. Stay tuned.
3. Yeah, I miss his baby days but now, the house smells a lot better and I can actually understand what he is saying. He knows how to make me laugh and that is a gift worth its weight in gold.
4. No one wants to stay in high school forever. I couldn't wait to graduate and start fresh and reinvent myself. My son will soon get to do that and there is no better feeling when you've been stuck in the same hamster wheel for 12 years.
So as we keep moving forward, I'll try to cry less. (No one likes a downer.) I want to try to celebrate the happiness in all we've experienced, and in all the memorable experiences awaiting us this year. As Dr. Seuss or Harvey Mackay once stated, "Nobody said it’d be easy, they just promised it would most likely be worth it.”
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| First day of 3rd grade |
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