The line of cars was long as I waited to pick up my son from his very first day of class. I craned my neck to see him, wondering about his first day. Did he make any friends? Did he have enough to eat? Was he nervous – afraid?
And then they let the kids out, and as I saw my son, my firstborn, my eyes filled with tears. It seemed just yesterday that he was born, and now I was sending him out into the world. For an irrational instant, it seemed I was sending him to his doom. The new experiences and challenges he was facing seemed more like new danger and conflict. I thought about the cruel world he would soon encounter, and I wanted to put him back into his child seat, drive away, and never let him out of my sight again.
Yet I knew I had to let him go. If only the separation weren’t so heart wrenching.
I was the next car. Ashamed at my sentimentality, I brushed my tears away, put on a big smile, and greeted the child of my heart.
“Hi, son. How was Driver’s Ed?”
