Tuesday March 11, 2025 // Late Morning
There’s a new game I play every weekday morning that fills and tears apart my heart at the same time. A couple weeks back, roles shifted in the household and now I’m in charge of morning drop off at kindergarten. Little did I know 20 seconds a day would give me such a jolt.
Here’s how it goes.
I pull up to school, being waved into the drop off line by some 25-year-old kid teacher with a glowing handheld stop sign. My kid jumps out of the car and we say goodbye. He puts on his little backpack that is overstuffed with a lunchbox and dripping with keychains. The giant school looms out behind him. He steps over to the sidewalk and I need to move my little Mazda so the next in the long line of oversized SUVs can do the same. People are busy, trying to get to work and over to Starbucks. I get it. I need to move my car and get on with it.
But I can’t. I move up so the next guy can go but then creep as slow as I can around the bend to exit the parking lot. In my mirror I strain my eyes to get another glimpse of him trotting into school. Saying hi to a teacher or a friend who is also getting dropped off. Starting his day.
There’s a double row of parked cars and the drop off line between me and my kid now as I inch forward. Between the columns of vehicles I peer quickly; hoping to get another glance. One last glance. Maybe 30% of the time I get that quarter second recognition of him. His brightly-colored jacket moving towards the school doors. I need to peek back in front of me constantly to avoid hitting an arriving teacher walking across the lot. That wouldn’t be good. Another gap. Another glance.
There’s one last chance. I turn the corner towards the exit. I’m now 200 feet away but if he hasn’t made it to the doors yet, I’m beyond the parked cars and I get a final attempt at a look. To see him off, out into the big world on his own. Hoping he can handle the obstacles put in front of him.
I believe in him. I just want one last glance though.
– Josh // Trying to hold on
Related Reading: Come With Me