I’m not special or unique. I didn’t accomplish anything new today that Mamas haven’t been doing for many many years.
I’ve known this day was coming, but I still wasn’t quite ready to let you go.
Even with the peace I’ve felt in this decision, it was a tough moment.
The beginning of elementary school feels like the end of our young years together…a closing to the chapter of “the baby days” that have felt like they would last forever. Turns out, they were gone like lightning. And it leaves an ache in my chest that I just can’t describe. You’re my oldest of four, but you’re still my little boy.
This morning I walked you into a classroom full of little kids I don’t know. With a teacher I barely know. You found the spot with your name on it and gave me a hug. You were ready to let go before I was. I grabbed your Daddy’s hand and we walked out together.
Gosh, I hope I’ve prepared you…
I hope you can find your way without me. That I’ve taught you enough independence. Been a good enough example.
I pray I’ve shown you what it takes to fight your own battles. To do it with kindness and grace.
I pray, oh how I pray, that you’ll make life-giving friendships. That you won’t waste time trying to be popular.
I pray you make good, honest choices.
That you’ll befriend the kid who is sitting alone. Stick up for the one who is made fun of.
That you learn quickly not to participate in putting someone down or judge someone based on appearances.
My heart knows you’re ready. My head fights knowing we are sending you out into a very imperfect and broken world.
I know I shouldn’t be, but I’m a little afraid of you changing. I’m not ready for you to lose your innocence. For all your soft edges to be hardened.
I don’t like giving up control (There…I said it). I’ve kept you safe almost six years, and today, I handed that responsibility over to you. I know you’ll be in excellent hands. God no doubt has sent a few extra special ladies that obviously go above and beyond to help watch out for you. And for that, I’m SO thankful.
Our house is going to be quiet without your dominant and outspoken spirit to fill it. Things at home will be so different…Change and I, we are not friends.
Right now I’m sitting in a blurry place. I can kind of see what lies ahead, but the path is still a little fuzzy. The truth is, I’m sad for me, but excited for you. I can’t wait to watch you make new friends. To see you grow outside MY comfort zone, as you’ll most surely surprise me by exceeding all my expectations for you.
And you will change. Deep down I’m happy about it. I don’t want to freeze you, or keep you “stuck” where you are. I’m confident in the traits God has placed inside you that makes you, you. It’s exciting to witness you maturing and becoming exactly who He wants you to be. And I will continue to be one proud Mama as I watch it all unfold.
One day you’ll understand what I felt today…How my heart is torn between wanting to keep you home with me where I can love and protect you, to also wanting you to go and have all the experiences that I can’t provide you myself.
Don’t forget to always be yourself. Be compassionate. Be a good listener. A good friend. Be a light for Jesus.
And don’t grow up too fast, okay?
For we walk by faith, not by sight. II Cor 5:7
1 thought on “Kindergartener”
Beautifully spoken from a Mother’s heart……the way most of us have felt yet not possessed the eloquence to put words to paper, or maybe the courage.