Be still my heart. Something about kindergarten year. Tight chest, eyes brimming with water and lump in my throat all over again. These past few weeks have been busy and purposeful and fun. Trying each day to squeeze every last drop out of summer.
We had a Back to School dinner on Sunday, and then Monday was lunch out, last minute errands, and football practice. We raced home, cleaned up, and before family prayer each kiddo received a father's blessing. This is the third school year now for our family and these traditions are exciting and comforting. But still. As we were packing up her backpack last night, my fearless little girl, the one who at 18 months ran into the church nursery and yelled "Bye Mom!" without even turning around, began to cry. So so so uncharacteristic. I asked what exactly it was that was making her sad, and she said, "I'm just going to be there all day, and you're just going to be here...without me!" I must say, it was sweet to me to have this little glimpse, verification if you will, that she was actually going to miss me. A small moment. Of course she woke up this morning excited and ready to go. And when we got to her classroom door (at our new school we were welcome to come in for a photo :) she walked right through, like so many years before, without a look over her shoulder to mom. Lily hugged her teacher and gave her a caramel apple, hung up her backpack and found her seat. Before I left she was engrossed in coloring a paper with the school's mascot. I stood in the doorway for a few moments looking at the bright and colorful world she is now a part of. Intuitively I know that she is going to have a wonderful experience. The tears are mostly because it is always at this kindergarten threshold that I realize what a profound gift for me it has been to have spent these first five years together.