This morning, the first day of preschool for Henry, he told me he'd walk into school by himself. I told him that with today being the first day of school and all, that I'd walk him in. He acquiesced. Even though we walked in together, he still managed to walk by himself. So unconcerned about where I was....we didn't even hold hands. Whole families filed between him and me on the path into school.
He entered his classroom, chatted up his teacher and settled in.
I had to ask for a hug. He hugged me happily, briefly.
I found myself standing there, watching him, the other kids. And realized I was the only parent doing so. I felt the familiar tug, the swirl of hot tears threatening their escape.
I turned to leave. No one noticed.
With the lump in my throat, I watched Henry through the window. He emulated contentedness, peace and calm.
Perfect.
I walked back down the path. Alone.
Perfect.
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2 comments:
We raise our children to be independent of us. It is our goal. A little bittersweet, but yes it is perfect.
Great post!
Yup, yup, and yup. My oldest starts preschool next week and ugh! While I'm looking forward to the quiet and the chance to have a little more freedom, I am still not believing that my first baby now needs a backpack and an emergency contact card.
Great post. Stop it, though. You're making my mascara run.
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