It came much faster than we ever anticipated. We closed our eyes to blink and when we opened them again, it was the first day of Kindergarten. She looped her arms through the pink straps of her new backpack and reached for my hand then her mother’s hand and we walked her into the building. We walked her down the hall and forced ourselves to let go, to let go of her hand, to let go of our baby girl, to let go and let God , to let go and let her teacher help us shape her into the best version of herself.
We put a lot of thought into choosing the correct school for her and it was important to us that we find somewhere that would challenge and develop her academically but also encourage and shape her ever-growing faith. We wanted a sense of community that included God in the curriculum because He’s just as important in the classroom as He is outside of it. We wanted to give her every opportunity to learn as much as she can about everything she can to be the best person we know she can be.
Train up a child in the way they should go; when they are older they will not depart from it.
The night before, I listened to the muted conversations between her and her mother while she bathed. I listened to the giggles that bubbled up and floated down the hall. I listened to the questions she asked focusing more on the sound of her five year old voice, soft and curious and excited and sweet. I listened to the soundtrack of childhood our walls are absorbing - tales of ripped and repaired dolls, bedtime stories read until memorized, familiar tunes with improvised lyrics, infamous eves to birthdays and Christmas and now Kindergarten.
Time flies, it’s not just a cliché. Tears fall, it’s not just a myth. We pulled away from the school we just walked out of leaving her there and we counted the minutes until we would see her again while trying desperately to ignore the parallel rivers running races down our faces. We pulled ourselves together in the hours between dropping her off and picking her up and soaked in every detail she gave us once she was with us again. Our little girl. Our pride and joy. Our love personified. Our Kindergartner.