First of all, we went to meet his second grade teacher at his new school. She was a very nice lady, and I hope we still like each other by the end of the year. Sheridan was all eyes, and talking a mile a minute. She got a bit of a sample of him in action, and I duly warned her of what she faced. Oh well, at least she noticed he's good natured and actually wants to please.
He was also excited to see he would be in the same class with the little neighbor boy who lives next door...who promptly warned him that the girl he'll be sitting next to is real mean, and now he's worried about that. Sigh.
But the hard part came later.
I picked him up from his current school for the last time. He had been going to this little school since one week after he was potty trained. And as he was emptying his little locker into a bag, it finally hit him. He looked around, then looked up at me...and I could see he was starting to cry.
"Dad? Will I never come back here? Ever?"
This was his first experience with "moving on." He wanted to walk around, looking at the little classroom he had known...at the walls, and shelves, and things that had been his world away from home for the greater part of his life. It was all going to be gone. This was the end.
I had told him for the past three months that he would be going to a new school at the end of the summer, but to a seven year old that is a tomorrow that is safely far away in the future. Only now it had arrived and it hurt watching him wrestle with saying goodbye to what he knew and where he felt safe. He was crying hard by the time we got out to the car.
I explained to him gently how things end in life, but that new beginnings happen also. I confess I was hurting inside pretty bad by now too. I guess I wanted him to stay a little boy forever, and this was a harsh reminder to me also that that wouldn't happen. As I said...things end. He's starting to grow up.
I did manage to get a smile out of him before sending him to bed this evening. I told him I was very proud of him for making it all the way to the second grade, and how big he was now. That seemed to help.
I just wish there words to express how much I love him.
Aw, it's that bittersweetness that makes parenting such a emotional journey. When my seven year old says, Mom it goes too fast, I wonder how she can even see the speeding of time. To me childhood stretched forever :).
ReplyDeleteHopefully the new adventures will soon inspire your boy to keep looking ahead. It's the changing of things that makes them so precious. Good luck in second grade, Sheridon!
Second grade really is a magical year. I taught it for eight years. I have my own second grader, too.
Beautifully written!
I think both he and I feel better about it today. Rowan's birthday help brighten things up :)
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