Wednesday, June 3, 2015

To Jack, on your (preschool) graduation day...


Dear Jack on your (preschool) graduation day,  

 I can already picture your 18 year old self proclaiming, “But mooooooooom. It’s just preschool – it’s not a big deal.” Then why, my sweet boy, can I not pull into the preschool parking lot during this last week of school without dissolving into a puddle of tears? 

Maybe it’s because you are my first born – the one we wanted so badly and waited so patiently for.  But plenty of moms will be sitting there during the last show watching their first born children “graduate” from preschool without gasping for air between bouts of ugly cries. So why, oh why, is this so very hard for me?

You see, you and I got to this place by taking a different path.  Your first year of life was not typical and it made me fiercely protective of you.  There was a moment where we didn’t even know if you’d be able to attend “regular” school with “regular” kids.  I’ve spent the last five years eyeing down strangers in Target who looked like they were going to say something or ignoring the conversation with the mom next to me at the playground because that kid following you around might do/say something about your glasses.  I was/am the Mama Bear of Mama Bears.

You were safely guarded at preschool, and I fell in love with the teachers who were as fiercely protective of you as I am.  Being at that school was like being with family, and it was more than easy to send you off every day.  And now you’re leaving.  The bubble I’ve created and kept sacred for five years is now expanding to include things like school buses and cafeterias, and much older kids…and a place I cannot protect you. For 8 hours a day, I will not know if you’re ok, if you’re happy or being teased.  Your teachers won’t be as easily reached, and I can’t call the front office just to check in if you’re having a bad day.  It scares me to death. 

 Here’s the thing – you’re going to be fine. I am so excited for all the things Kindergarten holds for you, but what I wouldn’t give to protect you for one more minute, one more day, one more year. Everyone tells you it goes by fast, but holy cow, that was lightning speed.  I just keep thinking of a quote from one of my favorite movies, “Father of the Bride” (which I can also not get through without sobbing, but that has to do more with your sister):

 Sooner or later, you just have to let your kids go and hope you brought ‘em up right. 


I’m not letting go, trust me, I never will.  But I suppose I’ll have to loosen the reigns a bit.  I love you to the moon and back, kiddo, and this Mama Bear will never let go. 
Love,
Mommy
 
become this so quickly???
How does this.....
 


2 comments:

  1. Hello I read your story 1 month ago, and i was so surprised that my story is like your's.I have a girl,she had also congenital cataract in both eyes.She also had surgery in both eyes,one eye in 3rd month,and another in 4th month.Now she is 6 month.I see that my child see me,she looks at toys,keep them.But she focus her eyes difficultly,she wears glasses +12.Can you tell me please Jack's first spectacle number and where did he have surgery? And also please hospital's and doctor's name? if you want I can contact with you on email.Thank you

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