Wednesday, August 17, 2011

I wanna hold your hand....

Today was the first day of 1st and 3rd grade for B and L.

You would think that after a while these feelings that get lodged in my throat would subside and I would be accustomed to the changing tide of the school year.

You would think.

Instead, last night I left Open House with a heaviness settling inside of me.  It seemed like I had just gotten used to the idea of my baby being in Kindergarten.  Now I had to deal with him being in 1st grade and L being in the "upper hall".

My husband weighed in guessing that the change in the bus pickup and drop off time was what had thrown me for a loop.

"You don't like change...." he stated.

He is right.

But not about the bus times.

This morning, after dropping the kids off at school, my cell phone rang.

His familiar voice was there asking a question he already knew the answer to.  "Hey!  How'd it go?"

I tried to verbalize my feelings diplomatically and matter-of-factly.

I tried.

"I feel like that our children belong to us before they start school.  Birthdays are a reminder of their age, but each day resembles that of the other- no strings, no obligations, no school....Each day is so similiar that you almost believe that every day yet to come will also be the same.  And that absence of change I am OK with.  Then the kids start school and the days look much different.  I feel like each grade progression is a flaunting of the fact that soon, and very soon, my children will go on their way....without me."

Without realizing it was coming I felt the facts disappear behind my very raw feelings and I had to immediately shut off the words for fear that more emotion, as evidenced my tears and jagged breaths, would spew forth.

Steven in his own wisdom spoke of cherishing each moment, each stage, even each grade and make memories every day that will last long after the children are grown.

I knew he was right but all the talk of memories spoke of a time forgotten, left behind, and a time being recalled.  I don't want to recall times with my children and the innocence they bring to my life. I want to live it.  The thought of not living it physically pains me.

Ironically, I acknowledge that worrying about it keeps me from fully living it while they are still here, standing before me.

Why is it my mind knows what my heart can't even bear to speak of?

Maybe he is right and the time will come when we will be happy to see them leave. 

Actually, I don't think he really even believes that.

Maybe what he really means is that there will come a time when we will be happy to see them visit....


1 comment:

Manda said... im crying kim. thanks a lot!!! (great post)