The Beginning of the End

The build-up has been intense. Clandestine rehearsals of poetry recitations and dance numbers -- in the den, in the twins' room, anywhere out of parental sight line. Outbursts of giggles. Intentional -- but feigning as though accidental -- humming of secret songs at the dinner table.

The dress code for the day was reiterated time and time and time again.

Sarah: "Mommy, I'm going to need a white blouse and a navy blue skirt."
[Beloved Mrs. H clarified, white tops and blue bottoms comprised the extent of the requested wardrobe. Divine Miss S. knew a clothing purchase opportunity when she heard even the slightest hint of one.]

Darren: "Mom, we're supposed to wear white shirts and dark pants."
[Ever concise D., committed to brass tacks details.]

To the pleasure of both, despite drawers that seem ever-overflowing, we were experiencing a dearth of imprint-free white tops and well-fitting dark bottoms. Hello, Target.

As they headed off to school Wednesday, they were the picture of uniformed unity. Each of the five classes had worked out a number acknowledging the conclusion of the kindergarten chapter, the academic accomplishments made, and their collective bright future in first grade.

[Sarah's jazz hands are a facet of their "First Grade, First Grade" showstopper, to the tune of "New York, New York."]

What struck me, in addition to waves of teary over-emotionalism, was that each of our children was poetically flanked by someone who, for one reason or another, forced them to grow. Occasionally in ways I wasn't (and certainly they, and maybe their teachers weren't) ready for; but rise above, survive, and grow they did. And so did we as parents.

Like I remember Miss Tunstall and Scott remembers Mrs. Coppola,
Sarah will always remember Mrs. Hooker...

...and Darren Ms. Fesler.


Today was the last day of kindergarten, for all purposes, I'm the parent of a pair of first graders. As Sarah and her classmates sang so enthusiastically yesterday, "If they can...make it there, they'll make it...anywhere." They're already well on their way. Thank you Ms. Fesler and Mrs. Hooker. We'll never forget you.