“I’m happy to walk into school with you if you need me too,” I said. We were driving a carefully pre-planned route that enabled me to drop my oldest son off on the school property while at the same time avoiding the masses of humanity performing the same rite of passage.
This day was a big one. My oldest was moving up from elementary school to intermediate school – a much bigger property and full of kids that he had never met. Even though he wasn’t saying it, I could tell he was a little nervous about embarking on this great adventure. So, even though he had said earlier that he would walk in on his own, the Mom in me caved and I offered again, just in case he had changed his mind.
“No,” he said looking out the window, body tensed and eyes searching. “I’m OK, Mom. I can do it on my own.”
“OK,” I replied. Watching his body language out of the corner of my eye, I felt my own body kick into Mother Bear mode. As the terror inside screamed out for me to protect and began to spread from my heart to my eyes and my face I yelled back. “This will be fun!” I said, a little too loudly. I forced a smile on my face and commanded my eyes to smile too. “A real adventure!”
“Yeah,” was the soft reply. Eyes remaining focused out the window at the kids – none of whom we knew – entering the school.
I stopped at the crosswalk we had agreed upon. “Have a great day, Sam. I love you.”
“I love you too, Mom,” he replied. And he got out of the car.
We turned the corner and my heart flipped over. I could feel the bear inside starting to close off my throat. My youngest was still in the car. I had to hold it together.
To the north of the school is a huge, square-block large, grassy area where the Intermediate students have recess and people often hold soccer practice. I sped the car up and headed to the north side of this park.
“This,” I said to Isaac, “is between you and me.” And I parked. From here, I could see Sam walk the remainder of the two block wide school complex and into the school. Watching, I said a small prayer to God, asking him to guide my son’s footsteps, guard his heart and give him peace on this time-honored solo journey.
“Can he see us?” asked Isaac.
“No,” I replied. “Mom’s are really good at hiding.”
And Isaac and I watched as his blonde head, brand new plaid shorts, white t-shirt and black and red plaid messenger bag walked down the sidewalk, turned at the cafeteria stairs and went into the building.
