walk on
My friend kindly shared great mothering wisdom in my early 'tending to two' days. I didn’t know, though, that when you "prepare the child for the path" (and not the path for the child), that you’ll walk home to a house so deafeningly quiet that you can almost hear those tears rolling down your face.
“It’s already started…” one dad said as his daughter waved good-bye and crossed the street to the bigger school. That was just before the mom who also does '2nd Day of School' pictures was a reminder for me to take ours too as she relayed her offspring’s reluctance to keep with tradition.
Mine wanted to leave five minutes early today. The one who used to grip her legs around my hip as we’d walk into Mother’s Day Out was sharing the joy that is seeing her new teacher. And big brother assured me that he’ll take the long route to his classroom, making sure that little sister gets to hers. Cause they can cross the street together now, and they’ll have that sibling stride to the bigger school, and around the corner I won’t be able to see if they stick together or dive into the company of friends. I may know the path, but I won’t always get to walk alongside.
There are house sounds that go unnoticed when you’re so busy in the living. There are things that you forget to feel in the hubbub going and doing. And then the early years of trying to keep up greet you with a stillness of what’s been created, and you celebrate and grieve the milestones reached. Everything's rolled up into one, big catch-in-your-throat emotion that leaves you taking a seat with a sigh because you’re just not sure what you’re supposed to do next —because nobody’s asking for a snack.
I watched our son pause and take a deep breath when he reached his new classroom yesterday. A “let’s do this, I can do this” sort of reminder to self. And I felt my daughter’s grip loosen a bit on my hand as she spied faces familiar. A “here’s happy and fun and waiting for me” start to a new chapter.
Maybe they were just showing me how to get through my Day Two.
Or my day too.
Thanks for that, dear hearts.
I'll meet you at the corner.