My oldest child is now a 15 years old, a soon-to-be second year student in high school. I thought about him as I dropped off my youngest child, my 5 year-old daughter Emersyn, off at her pre-school classroom for the last time.
‘I have no recollection of my son’s preschool experience,’ I thought to myself. I racked my brain to think about my son’s Pre-K graduation. It seems wiped from my memory bank. ‘Oh well,’ I consoled myself, ‘this isn’t a big deal.’
Hmmm.
For some reason, though, I felt differently about Emersyn leaving her Pre-K class. Tonight I felt sad – filled with the hopefully-pride kind of regret that comes with watching your kids grow up far too quickly.
Tonight’s graduation ceremony seemed like a big deal. Why? Especially if, in ten years, I’ll repress it from my memory bank altogether as I’ve done with my son’s.
Maybe it’s because Emersyn is our last child to go through all of this. Endings, in any context, are emotional. My sadness seems odd, though, as I’m more apt to be the guy that poo-poo’s these minor accomplishments to other, overly-emotional parents surrounding me.
Maybe I’m sad because each little milestone is accompanied by a loss of a bit of sweetness and adorably-whimsical childhood ignorance. One-by-one, I’ve seen such innocence fade as each child grows.
Or, maybe seeing Emersyn head to kindergarten reminds me of how time gets away from you when you’re raising a bunch of children. I’ve been about the “next thing” for a decade: the next responsibility, the next practice, the next kid’s need. The energy for getting things done often surpasses that which I devote to taking in the daily treasures our families leave for us.
Maybe it’s because Emersyn’s Pre-K graduation ceremony reminds me that I’m getting older, too. When my 15 year-old started kindergarten I seemed to be one of the “young parents”. Now, I’m certainly older than most of the fellow parents that are packing into the seats tonight.
Maybe I’m down because I better understand the parenting road that is ahead of me. I have first-hand experience with these little sweethearts growing into hormone enraged, sarcastic, phone crazed tweens and teens that want little more than to sink into the lonely quiet of their iPhones.
Maybe it is all of it.
Sigh.
Sure, there are bigger things in store. Graduating preschool is not a time for overflowing emotions and opulent celebrations. At the same time, a Pre-K graduation ceremony is not the time to think too far ahead about what is to come for our little scholar.
It is, I think , a time to take mental note and reflect a bit – about how far our family has come, where we’re headed, and to make an honest assessment of my own personal contribution to our success and shortcomings. Maybe then the lesson of my sadness during Emersyn’s graduation is about pulling myself out of thoughts that take away from the present.
Just as her four siblings over the last ten years before her, Emersyn will head off to kindergarten next year. Unlike the others, though, I am trying hard to pay more attention to taking mental notes about what to hang onto, and what to let go.
I can’t recall my son’s Pre-K graduation – that memory is lost in a trail of hurry and parenting-based exhaustion. That’s inexcusable. I’ll try not to have that happen again. I will happily remember the sliver of sadness I felt as Emersyn triumphantly strolled across the church stage. I’ve made note of the smile she beamed while shaking her teachers’ hands.
That small piece of regret tells me that I took in the moment this time.
After all, it is the little things.
