Back to School Blues

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By Michael

Tomorrow would have been my daughter’s open house for preschool, where she would have gotten to see her classroom and meet her teacher.  Since her mom moved her out of the area, she doesn’t get to go, and she had been accepted into the program early due to her speech, which has gotten substantially better but could still use a little work.  It kills me that she doesn’t get to go.  She has been beyond excited since early June when I took her to get registered and for her screening.  It’s really been all she’s talked about.  How she’ll be going to her school.  Seeing school buses and asking if that’ll be her school bus, and talking about how she can’t wait to meet her teacher and all her new friends.  Of course, her mother hasn’t told her she won’t be going.  I don’t think I could get through the process of telling her myself, breaking my baby girl’s heart, without getting upset myself.
It’s a day I’ve been dreading and looking forward to at the same time.  An experience I’ve not got to have with my stepdaughter or my son.  That very first, first day of school.  It would have been me getting her up, getting her ready, fumbling with her hair, and driving her to the school, not knowing if I’d be getting tears or smiles.  I was truly looking forward to being able to have that experience, just once.  Maybe it’s selfish of me.  I know most dads don’t get to, some don’t care, but I did, I do.  If anything it’s just an extra reminder of the things I’m going to miss out on again, just like I did and do with my son.  I’d do anything to have the experiences with my baby girl, but anything is obviously not enough….it’s hard.  It’s really hard.  Once looking at the future, excited and scared, and now dreading it because of all the things I know I’m going to miss, and only ever get to hear about, and not experience.
It’s hard to say if it’s ironic, or just a cruel jape by the universe that I came across an artist that had created images of superheroes taking their kids and/or sidekicks to school last night.  I of course posted it on my other website, because it was fitting, not only for the subject matter but for the time frame.  There was just something brilliant and beautiful about them though, and at the same time heartbreaking.  I’m some ways, fictional characters get to have what I want and crave, and it’s not powers or cool costumes, but the simple things in life.  Walking and holding your child’s hand while they wear a backpack too big for them, and being just as excited and anxious as they are.
There’s something extra beautiful about the one of little Peter Parker, holding the hand of his Uncle Ben’s ghost.  He may not physically be there, but here’s there in spirit, he’s there in his heart.  I can only hope my kids know, that even though I can’t physically be there to hold their hand, that I’m still there with them.

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