On The First Day of The First Grade

photo via zazzle.com

Unlike Billy Joe McGuffey, Z isn't normally particularly clumsy.   He did, however, have his first day of first grade today. 
Yes, I know, your Facebook news feeds and Twitter timeline are inundated with "first day of school" pictures, comments, and posts.  And yes, I'm writing this anyway.

Where a great deal of those posts are telling you how EXCITED those parents are for the start of school, I cannot join in the merriment.  It honestly makes me sad.  Even with my hideous work schedule, I've enjoyed starting my mornings with Z.  We've gotten up, had breakfast, hung out, and possibly moved on to his current Lego Xbox game obsession (sometimes Batman, sometimes Star Wars, always Lego).

On Wednesdays, my day off, we had fun.  We've gone shopping, played outside, and just spent time being together.  He is getting couponing lessons early, being taught how we'll save for his college education.

This morning, as I walked him to class, it struck me how fast this is all going.  I know that every parent says that at some point, but it genuinely has caught me by surprise.  I wonder how much longer he'll continue to allow me to dote on him and hug him in front of his friends.  How many more times will he let me walk him to his class at the start of the year?

And then I pause. 

Why spend time worrying about all of that?  It's wasted time.  I could lament all the time that's passed, or I could focus on all the time that (I pray) I have left.  I can worry about the day that he'll stop hugging me in public, or I can relish the fact that he often reaches out to hug me first.  I can fret that he'll soon stop turning back to wave goodbye, or I can make sure he sees my smile and wave back. 

Tomorrow is the last day that I can walk him to class.  I foster his independence, wanting him to make the choice.  So, I asked.  And his response? 

"I want you to walk with me."

And so tomorrow, we walk.  We'll go to class, hug goodbye, and I'll let him go. 

And watch him fly.