There are some instances that I hope never to forget...
I am not very good, or a least not as good as my wife at recalling life's scenes. I wanted to note this one here, so maybe I don't forget this morning's.
Yesterday was the first day Nick decided he was good to walk into school from the curb by himself. Though I have asked him on previous mornings if he was ready to do that to encourage him, I always let him know that I was perfectly happy to join him. When we were early enough, I often lingered out of site to observe with fascination how he interacted with the other kids in the wait-for-the-opening-bell staging area. So, it was bitter sweet to see him bravely make the journey on his own.
Today, I had to drop something off with his teacher, so Nick's brave journey was already interrupted. He immediately walked into class without even a look back as I waited to talk with his teacher from the hall. At least 3-4mins. past before I was finished conferring with her and yet Nick was still not at his desk. He was still stowing his backpack and coat in a cubby mostly hidden by long drapes. As I turned to leave, out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't see him, but I did see those drapes ruffling.
I took a couple of steps down the hall and something possessed me to turn back and look again. Perhaps it was still the keen interest in watching him as he introduced himself to the class like I did on prior days of walking him in, perhaps it was the understanding that walking him in would become a very rare opportunity. I don't know. But, when I returned to a point in the hall that gave me the proper angle to see the cubby, Nick was still in there but now he was peering out toward the hallway between the crack splitting the drapes. Upon seeing me, he smiled brightly and shared with me a tiny concealed wave that only I could see.
I hope I never forget that visual. And, okay, I understand mothers getting emotional when their precious little darlings start school... Geez.
Yesterday was the first day Nick decided he was good to walk into school from the curb by himself. Though I have asked him on previous mornings if he was ready to do that to encourage him, I always let him know that I was perfectly happy to join him. When we were early enough, I often lingered out of site to observe with fascination how he interacted with the other kids in the wait-for-the-opening-bell staging area. So, it was bitter sweet to see him bravely make the journey on his own.
Today, I had to drop something off with his teacher, so Nick's brave journey was already interrupted. He immediately walked into class without even a look back as I waited to talk with his teacher from the hall. At least 3-4mins. past before I was finished conferring with her and yet Nick was still not at his desk. He was still stowing his backpack and coat in a cubby mostly hidden by long drapes. As I turned to leave, out of the corner of my eye. I couldn't see him, but I did see those drapes ruffling.
I took a couple of steps down the hall and something possessed me to turn back and look again. Perhaps it was still the keen interest in watching him as he introduced himself to the class like I did on prior days of walking him in, perhaps it was the understanding that walking him in would become a very rare opportunity. I don't know. But, when I returned to a point in the hall that gave me the proper angle to see the cubby, Nick was still in there but now he was peering out toward the hallway between the crack splitting the drapes. Upon seeing me, he smiled brightly and shared with me a tiny concealed wave that only I could see.
I hope I never forget that visual. And, okay, I understand mothers getting emotional when their precious little darlings start school... Geez.
posted by Greg K. at 9:15 AM
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