Monday, August 23, 2010 was her turn

colton (9), chase (7) and aiden (5)
first day of school

the sweet pea on her first day of kindergarten


everything about her exhibits a calm spirit and quiet patience. she has become accustomed to waiting her turn. she has always had two others who have gone before she quietly stands in the background, or sits on the bleachers watching. it's not that she doesn't talk. she always has something to idea that must be shared, a question to ask, something she wants to do or talk about, or an encouraging word to give. but her spirit is sweet and calm and sure...and she doesn't mind waiting. today it was her turn. and she was ready. this day snuck up on me in a way...but not her. she was born ready. we both knew it was coming, and i was busy expending my energy trying to make things perfect for her, while she quietly waited. she had an appropriate mix of emotion. she expressed a little excitement...a few questions...and the "i will miss you too's"...that were mainly for my benefit. but what struck me most, was her peaceful calm that was going against everything that i was used to feeling myself. there were no tears. there were no fears. there was no anxiety. and this...i had to respect about my daughter.

when i walked in her room this morning and woke her with a whisper, it took her a minute to remember. i said, "it's time to wake up, my little kindergartner." she smiled and whispered back, "i'm so excited." she was sure what she wanted to wear. she was sure how she wanted her hair. she was sure as she walked out of our house...the only place she has truly known...and into a whole new experience. and she was sure that she was ready and that she would be ok. this was someone i could learn something from. she was slowly becoming my example. quietly...patiently...i let her.


she did take my hand as we walked toward her classroom...and for that, i was grateful. i needed that little hand to remain in mine for as long as it possibly could. i started feeling them creep up inside.....the missing her; the sadness; the not wanting to let go; and the tears. i let her lead me. she calmed my heart, and my tears didn't surface. and she lead my way down the hall. she said, "it's the second door." i said, "ok." we were there...too quickly. five years too quickly. but we were there, none the less. and it was time to let go. we let go of each other's hands.

she has been right by my side for 5 years now, and it feels like my right arm is missing when she is not there. after we got home, i sat with annslee. i think she wondered where they were. she didn't see her sister bouncing and playing. she wasn't there to sit in the floor and play with her like every other morning. there were no cartoons on the t.v. she didn't hear her ask for another bowl of cereal, or another cup of juice. she didn't hear her questions or ideas or requests to play. it was silent. we both looked around, and the only sound she heard were my deep breaths as the tears started to make their way out from where they had been hiding. when i put her down for her nap, i passed aiden's room. the light was still on, so i went in. i looked around at all the places she would normally be, sat down on her bed, and let them come. i had done my job. she was ready. and i had held it together for her even though i wasn't. i was alone. and i cried.

i know that she will be home soon, and that she will quietly wait her turn to tell me all about her day. and i will hug her and tell her how much i missed her. and right i eye the puzzles and books, the little pretend kitchen where she has served me countless pretend meals, and the tiny tea set...just waiting for a little girl's imagination and a party...i smile through my tears and think about my sleeping baby girl in the next room. there is more to come.

the maiden and "her boys"
she doesn't have to watch them go this time.


Laura said...

Okay you just about made me cry. You are such a good story teller. I can only imagine how different your house must seem. But as you said, there is more to come. :)


Lindsey said...

this makes me sad, hopeful, and excited for both of you.