|E's first day of primary school|
A couple of weeks ago it was E's last day of Year 6. Which means his last day of primary school. And if I'm honest, I'm not sure I was ready for it. Sometimes I look at E and I can see it all, in layers. Him as a newborn, a baby, a toddler, a pre-schooler, a little kid. And there are all these memories that go with that. The funny things he's said or done, how his sense of humour has evolved over the past 11 and a bit years. The way his mind works, the way he pairs together knowledge in his own ways. I look at him and I see all of that.
So I get it. I know he's growing up, I know he's off to secondary school in September. And I'm sure he'll want to be ever more independent after that. Already he's pushing the boundaries of some of the rules we've put in place for him, questioning my authority. I figure this is the time he'll do it. And I'm not upset that he's growing up. Just, it's hard. Not only because it feels like I'm no longer needed, sometimes because I know I'm not ready to let him go and survive secondary school in the way only he can. I'm sure most parents in my position felt the same way. But also, I lost my dad this year. So while I know I'm not losing E, I am losing some of him. He's getting to a place where I'm not quite as important as when he was little, I'm not the centre of his universe. And even that loss makes me feel a little weepy.
|E on his final day of Year 6|