First Day of School - Mike Levine
By Mike Levine, Times Herald-Record
I wrote this column nearly a decade ago. Since then, many parents
have told me it's a way they mark the arrival of September's first school
bus. Here's to a safe and healthy year for all our children.
Quick, before they leave this morning. Take a good look. Touch
their faces, run your hands through their hair.
We got antsy with them last month, but now we want time to stand still.
Like falling leaves and chilly mornings, some great force signals us today.
We are aware of life passing.
See the kindergartner with a brave bewildered smile watching her
mother cry as the school bus pulls away. The high school freshman with
a lump in his throat hears his father whisper everything will be OK.
Brothers and sisters who fought all summer now hold hands.
Today is proud, today is helpless, today is tomorrow. From
Monticello to Monroe , from Marlborough to Matamoras, this is a special
morning, wrenching and sacred.
As a young reporter, I'd wonder why. What's the big deal about the
first day of school? I would write down quotes in my notebook and
comprehend nothing.
Then I became a parent. I found out. We mark time by today.
On this morning, we remember our own parents and our own childhood.
We are filled with the smell of old raincoats, the sticky bond of
classroom glue, the childhood knot of worried excitement. We were so small
and lost. (Secret: A part of us is still lost. We tell no one.)
Now we are in charge. We have children of our own. On this morning,
we remember the holy moment of their birth.
We see this is all just a matter of time. Once, we thought our
children were ours alone. Each September, on this day, we learn better.
Nothing is ours to keep.
Time passes through our eyes this morning. We see our children as
newborns, we picture them as grown-ups. We see them walking their own
children to school.
Time passes in the beat of a heart. I just saw my kindergarten boy
walk into his dorm on his first day of college. I stood there at once
empty and full, as sad and proud as the morning his first school bus pulled
away.
Come on, it's getting late. The bus is coming up the road. I'll
keep this short.
Make sure they have everything they need. Double check. Write their
name on the book bag. Sweetheart, did you remember your lunch money?
Dad, don't call me mushy stuff in front of the other kids.
They are right. Like the summer birds leaving us, our children know
what to do. Like September leaves waving on the trees, we, too, give
way to the winds of change.