The crickets are chirping outside. I can hear a neighbor laughing with friends and the jingle of a dog leash while someone is out for a night walk. It sounds just like a summer night only a few days ago except that it is quiet in my home. Tuckered out after a long day, everyone’s in bed sleeping peacefully except for the grownups (who stay up way too late).
The first day of 2nd grade, 4th grade, and 6th grade…the latter of which means the first day of middle school. My eldest has officially entered the world of drama, insecurity, girls who cry openly and boys who pretend they don’t at all, popularity contests, puberty (ick), and lockers (which we are led to believe are more important than the sum of the rest based solely on the amount of time spent discussing them with both children and parents alike).
As much as I denied it up until the last minute, he had to go. At orientation last week, we sat in the auditorium with a room full of giggly nervous tweeners and their equally nervous mothers (myself among them). They called homeroom teachers’ names and told the incoming 6th graders to follow them out to go to their classrooms and, of course, try their lockers. Evan looked at me in utter seriousness and asked, “You’re leaving me?” I answered the only way I knew how, “No, Evan, you’re leaving me.” And, that was that. Off he went.
As we were putting him to bed as we still do last night, I brought up a book we hadn’t read in a while—the book I made for him right before he started kindergarten. Based on Max Lucado’s Just In Case You Ever Wonder, I made a sort of lifebook for him with pictures from his babyhood right on up to the old age of 5, personalizing the words for him with the encouragement we felt he needed before he “left us” on that big yellow school bus for kindergarten.
Just as he did as he was 5, he sat beside me and I read every word, slowly flipping the pages and laughing as we recalled together his preschool Olympics and when he fell in love with a stray cat who made our back door his home and silly pictures taken on Christmas morning. Mark leaned over my shoulder to see the pictures too, and I kept reading with a lump in my throat.
Long, long ago, God made a decision – a very important decision – one that we’re really glad He made. He made the decision to make you, Evan. . . .
as you grow and change, some things will always stay the same. We will always love you. We will always be on your side, just in case you ever wonder.
Remember we are here for you. If you feel sad or frustrated, you can talk to us.
If you feel a little nervous and you feel funny in your tummy, you can talk to us.
If you just don’t feel like being yourself, you can talk to us. . . .
You are such a great big brother. And, God has given you a heart that is sensitive and loving. We think you are going to love kindergarten, just like you loved preschool. But, on days that you don’t, you can talk to us because we love you, and we always will, just in case you ever wonder.
And, know that even if you are lonely or sad or feeling bad, God is with you.
He loves you even more than we do, which is hard to even imagine.
Remember that you are never alone, and you are always loved. . . just in case you ever wonder.
And, then we prayed and kissed him goodnight, shut his blinds for him, made sure his clothes were laid out, and we left, leaving the door open a crack as we always do.
And, today, he went to middle school. Just like that.
p.s. he got his locker open on the 2nd try and every try after that. [happy sigh]
Abby says
That book makes me want to cry. I love it!