Letting Go: First Day of School

Today, JT started his Senior year of high school.  He’s a “lifer” at our school, having begun classes on this campus in 2003, when he was three years old.  Today is the last day I will snap his “first day of school” picture.   JT graciously yielded to my photo request.  He realizes that the year ahead is our last in clearly charted territory.

By this time next year, he’ll be in his first year of college.  Some of the days may have been long but the years since I gave birth to him have passed by quickly.  As this next year unfolds, I plan to write about all the tradition in our family, the things I did mindfully to remind JT that he is loved, and always in preparation for my expectation that it is my job to launch him into the world.   I’m going to call this collection “Letting Go” because that’s really what it’s about.

Today, as his last school year begins, I’m thinking of the years that he held my hand as we walked to his classroom door.  By first grade, I walked him to the main door and he travelled the last few feet by himself, calling, “I love you Mama,” as he walked off.  In second grade, I carried his bag while he and his broken leg travelled on crutches to get to class.  By third grade, he was ready to go on his own and I haven’t walked him to class since then.  Bit by bit, he has embraced independence.  This morning, he let me make his picture and then he drove to school himself, delivering flowers as he picked up his girlfriend on the way.  

And so his Senior year begins.