First Day of School
Walking the first morning of school I came across many little people, all accompanied by a hand-holding parent. The children were dolled up in new clothes and new backpacks. Their faces were shining with anticipation and no little anxiety. One little girl looked as fragile as a butterfly. Out of curiosity, I asked the mother who the day was hardest on. “Me,” she replied immediately. My heart went out to her.
It is supposed to be hardest on children to leave home and start in school, but that is not always the case. When children come into our lives they crack us open like Humpty Dumpty. If we are open to the magic they bring into our lives, we will never be the same again. Their demands and needs take over our lives. Their toys clutter our houses. We spend an amazing amount of time attending to their needs, looking after their health, taking them to clubs, camps, and other innumerable groups.
During this busy, often exhausting time, if we are open, a curious thing happens to us. Our children do not simply hold us by our hands but by our heart strings. Somehow they work a path into our innermost being in a way we may have not anticipated. They connect us with our own sense of dependence in a demanding world. They take us back again to our first magical experiences. We rediscover old loved books and cuddle up to watch silly cartoons together.
It is a new world, one we once lived but have largely forgotten. So when we take them off to school the first day, we are trusting our heart’s treasures to this institution which wasn’t always the most nurturing for us. It is a big step and, especially if we are a stay-at- home parent, going home, we are confronted with a house so empty of little feet we may feel empty ourselves.
Leaving home is a tough one, but not always toughest for the child. We all have to face a certain loss when our children go out into the big world to “seek their fortune.”
At least that is what I think. What do you think?
September 12th, 2005 at 12:50 pm
There we were, mother and daughter, watching her son,( my grandson), Brennan
get on that huge, yellow monster called a school bus and off he went to his first
day of school. I was there for support, because I knew that my daughter was
so sad letting him go. I had been through it three times myself.
We jumped in the car and drove to school, of course, to see him get off and make
sure he was ok. The bus pulled in,and I saw that little head of his that the
“monster vehicle” had swallowed up and started to cry, as did my daughter.
He’s too little, we both cried. So much for my support! Another mother, who was with us said “My God, you two”, and slowly started to slink away.
I looked around. Where were the parents of the primary children? Where were the
crying parents of the primary children? I am concerned in this day and age of
the two parent working homes, of which there are so many. I hear too many parents
say, “I’ll be glad when they start school.” “I’ll be glad when schools back in.”
And Brennan? Not a tear and he loves it. But yes, for some Moms and Grandmothers, a child starting school can be as or more traumatic than the child.
I refuse to see my first great-grandchild off. By that time, I may not live through it.
I looked around. Where were all the primary mothers? Where were all the crying mothers? Things have changed too much. I have heard too many times, “I’ll be glad when they start school or glad when they are back in. Worries me in this day
and age of two parents working.
The love and connection between parent and child has to be affected if you’re not there to bring them up!.