My stomach was in knots all morning as I packed my son's lunch and helped him get ready for his first day of kindergarten. Of course I did it all with a big fat smile on my face, hiding every emotion urging me to hug him and never let go. I couldn't understand why I was feeling this way. It's not like he was diving into the black hole and never coming back. I would see him after school. What was the big deal? What the heck was wrong with me?
But as I watched him walk himself into the next milestone, the knots in my stomach turned themselves into tears. Tears because I realized from this day forward, my little man would be coming home with new adventures, new names, new phrases, new opinions. All completely independent of me. That's when I knew that kindergarten was not only going to teach my child many new wonderful things, but it was also going to teach me to release control.
After all, for the next ten months, another human being is raising my child five days a week. I can't be there to protect him, or show him right from wrong. I can't step in if he's having an issue, or pick him up when he falls. All I can do is trust that he'll make the right decisions and surround himself with good people. But it can be difficult to release control over a situation when TRUST doesn't come so easily these days. We hear so many horror stories and are surrounded with so much fear, that when it comes to our children, control is all we have. It's hard to throw your hands up in the air and say "what will be, will be."
But I wiped my tears away anyway and decided to accept this lesson. Partly because I have no choice, and partly because I believe in my son. But to really step into kindergarten, I knew I needed more than just trust. I needed to choose HOPE.
HOPE that my child is aware enough to want to be his best self.
HOPE that each heartache and misstep is a lesson learned.
HOPE that the choices he makes comes from an honest place.
HOPE stems from the heart. It can't be gained or taken away. It's a choice.
One we can offer our children, so they can fly. So here's to Kindergarten!
A place where I will learn to release control and choose HOPE instead. A time for my son to fly.
After all, for the next ten months, another human being is raising my child five days a week. I can't be there to protect him, or show him right from wrong. I can't step in if he's having an issue, or pick him up when he falls. All I can do is trust that he'll make the right decisions and surround himself with good people. But it can be difficult to release control over a situation when TRUST doesn't come so easily these days. We hear so many horror stories and are surrounded with so much fear, that when it comes to our children, control is all we have. It's hard to throw your hands up in the air and say "what will be, will be."
But I wiped my tears away anyway and decided to accept this lesson. Partly because I have no choice, and partly because I believe in my son. But to really step into kindergarten, I knew I needed more than just trust. I needed to choose HOPE.
HOPE that my child is aware enough to want to be his best self.
HOPE that each heartache and misstep is a lesson learned.
HOPE that the choices he makes comes from an honest place.
HOPE stems from the heart. It can't be gained or taken away. It's a choice.
One we can offer our children, so they can fly. So here's to Kindergarten!
A place where I will learn to release control and choose HOPE instead. A time for my son to fly.