Mixed Emotions

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Mixed Emotions

September 2, 2014 Writing 1

After a long summer filled with activities to keep my children busy and myself sane, the first day of school has finally arrived.

This comes with mixed emotions.

I’m really happy that school is back in session, mostly because it gives me back my freedom to write with abandon that has been absent most of the summer.

It means Master Class and Wednesday Writers Wisdom is back.

It means I can work on The Elven Games more.

I can answer prompts and kick those voices out of my head.

Whoot!

But…

It’s also a bittersweet day. My baby girl started high school today. My youngest boy started 1st grade today. They grew up much too fast for this momma’s liking.

I also have a high school junior, and my oldest will ship out to the Army later this month. My nest is emptying. My heart is full.

Yet…

My youngest, the new first grader, makes my heart skip a beat. You see, I remember Sandy Hook. He was a preschooler then, but the horror of it stayed with me.

At his orientation on Friday, we got to meet his wonderful teacher and see his classroom. While I know how diligent his school is in protecting all the children from harm, I also know that the glass is not bullet proof.

I remember that the classrooms nearest the door were the first graders, little 6 and 7 years olds like my son.

My son is in the very first classroom nearest the door, just beyond the music room.

I know that his classroom is far enough away from the entrance that anyone trying to get through that glass would be intercepted.

I know he is safe.

I know he will have a fantastic first day with his favorite 1st grade teacher.

Still…

My heart will ache a little bit all year long in memory of Sandy Hook.

Because today, it hit home like it never did before.

 

One Response

  1. Kir Piccini says:

    I think all our hearts feel some piece of this. Life and time are passing so quickly with or without our consent and our littles are not anymore.

    My own heart squeezed a bit reading this, knowing that every child is someone’s child and it could be our own..that every first day of school or the Army or High School is actually so much more than that.

    Sending the hug I can’t give you in real life…and sitting here, my heart beating/ breaking a bit/ bursting with pride just like yours is. XO

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