There they go walking like big stuff into the elementary school. Only two there now. One is in middle school! My heart is pounding. I say a first day of school prayer. For teachers, for all students, for attitudes, for my girls. I swell with pride as I watch them, and I offer them back to God.
A greater moment is when I finally see their grinning faces in the car line. I know it’s been a great “first day.” The questions pour out of me. What did you do? Do you like the teacher? What is your special for the day? Did you like the lunch I packed you? And for the middle schooler: Did you like it? Did you find all your classes alright? When is the first day you’ll ‘dress out’ in PE? Who did you eat lunch with?
Oh, boy. They know it’s coming. I’m a talker. I’m sure I talk too much at times, but my husband and I are both serious communicators! Still, isn’t this what your mother is there for? Who else cares about all the mundane details? Who else finds joy in serving you, loving you, knowing your daily routine? Friends may want to care, but they usually just don’t have time for your rigmarole.
My mom still cares about the details in my life. Even when her details include how much blood is in her body, she still listens about my kids’ first day of school. Even though she isn’t sure how long her life will be, she embraces time and talk. Thanks be to God for mothers.
First days are exciting, but I pray I will still be listening on the last days. Middle days too.