Once upon a time, it was the first day of school. I remember it well. It was a crazy blustery morning with approx. 1 mil. frenzied kids rushing about the house trying to get ready and fed for the start of a new school year. Kids in elementary school, Jr. High, and High School felt the first day jitters but, I personally believe, no one more than I, for on that [probably] warm and sunny August day in 1986, it was to be my first day of first grade.
I had previously met my teacher and had a vague idea of where her classroom was. That day, my mom (mother of aforementioned 1 million children) had the impossible task of making sure every one was brushed, dressed, shoed, backpacked, combed, etc. For some reason or another, she had to take us to school because I guess we missed the bus? I don't know. We were never home-driven to school, always bused. But we were late. As I said, it was a frenzy. And apparently we were so late that she didn't have time to put shoes on. Driving without shoes is super weird and just shows how chaotic it must have been and it makes me laugh. So we drove up to the school and since she had no shoes, she couldn't take me to class. We had a discussion in the car and I assured her I could find the room ok.
But then it happened that i was six, and had forgotten it all, and in the madness and bedlam of the school satellite buildings, I became confused and could not find my classroom. I can still remember the feeling of that day, being in those weird hallways. I asked a few teachers and even a woman behind a desk but somehow still couldn't find the right room. I don't remember how I ended up there but the next thing I remember is somehow making my way to the front of the school at the flag pole, unsure what to do with myself. I don't think I cried, but I was feeling very scared and sad, and wondered what I should do next. And then, as the doors to the school opened, so did the gates of heaven, and angels' voices descended upon me as I saw my 6th grade brother come out to rescue me. He took me to where i was supposed to be and all was well. It was a bit traumatic and I've given my mom a bit of a rough time for it but it really made the day stand out to me and makes this day, today, extra special.
I told this story to Julian this morning and about how I finally did find my desk which had my name on it along with a new box of crayons. I feel like I couldn't read terribly well yet at the time. And i think about him, a reading champ, and feel happy inside. Our morning was insanely early and i don't know if either of us slept much. We had a good chat and walk to school. He cried when it was time to part but I've grown so used to this and also, given his changing and growing up, i don't mind if he's still a little bit clingy. It's a now endearing and silly little game we play. He knows he'll be ok. And I know he'll rock it. He's got a space-designed backpack that i SWEAR he picked out (when I showed it to him on amazon, and no others) and is on pair three of shoes I bought in three different sizes because he/we loved them--whew that the time for the largest size hit right at the start of school. He's tall and old and will need constant reminding to wear his glasses, as I will need reminders to remind him. His voice is getting lower and more big kid-like. He determinedly tucks his shirt into his underwear and lost another tooth a couple of days ago. I'm happy he's growing up, feel a little unnerved like I do every time i have to re-get to know him, but man, i sure do like him a lot. And can't wait for him to have adventures and for the sure-to-be epic tales he has to tell. Happy first day of first grade, Shorty.
|pic his teacher took. still a beauty.|
A video from a year ago.
|put this in his lunch, heh heh. Julian is basically Calvin.|