First day of school. I remember the anticipation of a new year; the fresh school supplies, the new shirt, the promise of a new beginning. I remember my mom waking us up each first day of school singing to us about reading and writing and arithmetic. It’s hard for me to believe that this is already the third ‘first day of school’ my son has had. Granted, preschool is a bit different, but still-it’s a big day. I wonder sometimes how it is that I am somebody’s mom. Not just one somebody, but two somebody’s. I wonder-what will they remember about me as they grow older? Will they look at dated pictures of me when they’re grown and think, wow-Mom looks so young! What was she wearing? Will they remember the back tickles and the countless renditions of ‘Babymine’ at bedtime? Is this a moment they will remember? Just another day at the park; just another trip to the beach? How will they remember their childhood? Am I doing enough to make their life feel special? Because it goes by so fast. Really ,really, really too fast. How can I prove to them each day that they are the most amazing experience; that they are the ones who have given me so much purpose; that they are the silliest, most loving, wonderful people I have ever know? That is my duty. My mother fulfilled her duty in so many ways; the memories I have of my childhood are ones filled with the simple pleasures of being a kid. Long bike rides. Walks to get ice cream. Lightening bugs. Night games with the neighborhood kids. And chores. We always had our chores. Most importantly, we always felt safe and loved-and special.
So forgive me for getting all sappy but as I send my son off to school this day, I cannot help but reflect on days past. Because tomorrow I’m going to wake up and I’m going to have teenagers who wear weird things and talk in funny codes and wonder where the time went. But today...today I get to give huckle-buckles and sing lullabies. Today is a good day.