September 8, 2015 by CassieCravings
To my curly-headed boy,
The sun is setting on your last day of summer. Tomorrow you start kindergarten.
It has been quite some time since I’ve viewed you as small, but as you try on your backpack you look shockingly tiny. The bottom reaches to nearly to your ankles. It flops and bobs while you dance. You smile sheepishly at me as you prance about in new shoes. I know that you feel unsure. I see it. You try to hide it, but you push out your bottom lip just as you always do when you are afraid. There is fear about navigating seemingly never-ending hallways, about how to carry a full lunch tray, about whether the classmates sharing your table will want to be your friend. When your chin begins to quiver, I smile reassuringly. I hope that you don’t see my own worries for you. I hope that you only see the excitement I have for what is ahead.
Tomorrow is a new adventure. Even though neither of us feel quite ready, I am sure that you are fully prepared. Kindergarten is a right of passage bridging the dependence to the independence. You already have so many gifts to offer your classroom: You are kind, and gentle, and curious.
While I’m not quite ready to let you go, I am proud for the impact you are going to have. You have big things ahead of you. Kindergarten is your first big step.
Be brave, little Eli.
Love you dearly. Love you always.