Kindergarten Blues

Two days ago my daughter started kindergarten. Logically, it shouldn't be that big of a deal. She's been in daycare since she was a baby and went to a full time pre-K program last year. We encourage her to be independent and she's great at making friends. I loved school as a kid and want her to have an even better experience than I did.

Knowing this, I was still on the verge of tears all summer every time I thought about her starting kindergarten.

Well, the big day has come and gone. I shed a few tears walking away from her on the first day, but kept my composure by focusing on how happy and excited she was. I've felt such a strange mixture of sadness and grief, I've had a hard time processing it.

Tonight, I figured it out in a completely accidental way. I went out to get a coffee to keep me going for a night of crafts and baking. On the way home I elected to drive by our old house. As soon as I saw the familiar street sign, I felt a sickening drop in my stomach and wave of grief wash over me.

In that moment it hit me why kindergarten was such a difficult thing to understand. Just like our old house, my "baby" was a thing of the past. They both represent so many wonderful memories, warm feelings, and "I want to remember this forever" moments that are never going to be repeated. And because it was so meaningful, letting go hurts a bit. But just as I kept driving, looking ahead to our new house, I am ready to embrace the new life my girl is beginning. 

As a book lover I like to think of it not as the closure of one chapter, but the opening lines of another just waiting to be written...