It’s a beautiful morning; summer still has a strong presence and like every year school starting always feels too soon. Today is the first day of my youngest daughter’s sophomore year in high school. Today begins nine months of early risings, music coming from her bedroom far too early, school drop offs and then off to work (again far too early). Unlike all summer, no more lying luxuriously in my bed until I feel like getting up. I would knit a little while watching the news and sipping my coffee before heading to work at the usual time. That will have to wait for school vacations and a smattering of workshop and snow days.
As my youngest approaches her half way mark through high school, I reflect on all the past years I've been preparing for the first days of school. It occurs to me that year by year I've had to do less and less. I’m not complaining in the least (well maybe a wee bit- as I still wish they were little girls). It started 18 years ago with my oldest daughter getting on the bus with her day care buddies (I cried, she did not) to having two in school walking my youngest to her kindergarten class followed by a tearful good bye (my tears not hers). Maybe those tears were me knowing that this day would come? This occurrence to me that with each passing year my daughters would need me less and less not just on the first day of school but for many things. I know they still need me plenty, just differently. No more cutting the crust off their sandwiches, no more doing their hair for them or helping them pick out their outfits or making sure they have their homework. They are both independent, lovely young women, I am so pleased. But I can’t help but feel a little sad.
Now my role is far less on school days; I’m really just the driver. It’s usually the same every day a quiet 5-10 minute drive to the high school a little chit chat once in a while, an exchange of I love you then she’s out the door and I’ll drive off. This year is a little different and poignant knowing that next year she will most likely drive herself to school on the first day and every day after that and I won't need to be the driver. I will try to treasure this first day of school and the days after; the early rising, the bleary-eyed quiet chit chat but I know me and I know I will silently wish she was still in a 5-point restraint system in the back seat.
Finally blogging,
Elizabeth B.
