Today is the first day of school. For the first time in her short life, I put my little girl on a bus and sent her off to school; by herself. No walking her into class, no helping her hang her coat up and no last kiss before she sat down. Needless to say I am a bit of a wreck. I think the best way to describe this feeling is through a story. (I am Irish after all.)
This story begins when I was five. I had an imaginary friend, Snoopy. He was my playmate and confidant, my partner in crime and the dog I didn’t have; even if no one else could see him. I always knew he was there. Snoopy scared away the monsters under the bed at night and woke me up in the morning so I wouldn’t miss a moment of playtime. He was my best friend.
On the first day of school in little Atchison, Kansas I woke up with Snoopy. I got dressed and ate breakfast. Backpack in hand I walked out the door and began my two block walk to school with mom looking on from the sidewalk. Two houses away I turned around and yelled at the thin air, “Go home Snoopy. You can’t come with me to school. Go home.” My mom sat on the front porch and cried; that was the last we saw of Snoopy.
Growing up I had heard this story a lot. For me it was a funny story about my cute quirkiness as I ventured off into the world of school. Now, as a parent I realize that this story means so much more. What I left behind on that sidewalk so many years ago was not just my imaginary friend, it was the first little bit of the complete innocence of youth. It was the last moment that my parents would be my entire world. It was the last moment that pure fantasy and imagination would be as real to me as ground beneath my feet. What I left behind was just the first of many moments leading me to this moment now, a grown-up with kids of my own.
Today my daughter starts kindergarten. She will go off into the world, armed with the values and confidence that I hope that I have taught her (and will continue to teach her), but for 7 hours a day she will go without me. This is a good thing, a wonderful first. It will be followed by new friends and first sleepovers. The first time she gets in an argument with a friend, the first time she realizes what a BEST friend is and the first time she thinks that her parents just don’t “get” her are all around the corner. These and all of the tiny little moments of childhood that will shape her into what I hope will be a strong, confident and happy person; these moments make up a wonderful life. This is what every parent wants.
But today, standing on the bus stop as my daughter drove away I realize that she leaves behind a tiny kernel of her childhood with me. On the walk home I thought about all of her firsts, her first real word (Dodo, for dog. Okay, it is only kind of a real word but we knew what she meant.) Her first ride on an airplane, trick-or-treating for the first time, her first trip to see Santa… all of these firsts came with me at her side. Today she starts a world of firsts without me. Today I really understand why my mother cried over an imaginary dog that ran away and never came home. Today for the first time in almost thirty years I want to stand on the front porch and yell, Come home Snoopy. Come home. I could really use an old friend, even if he is just in my imagination.
a life just ordinary 