Yesterday, was our last day of elementary school after nine years. I still have such vivid memories of the first day we walked into that school. Ben was tiny, wearing a backpack that was bigger than him. We took his picture outside the school at the crayons that guard the entrance. Then we went inside. He sat down at a tiny table and was given the assignment to draw something he liked. My husband crouched down with Ben and they began drawing the Incredible Hulk.
Meanwhile, outside the classroom, 2-year-old Ava was hitting me in the hallway and screaming that I had forgotten her backpack and how was she supposed to go to this school without her backpack. Of course, she’d have to wait three years before she’d get to go to kindergarten, but you can’t argue with a 2-year-old.
And so, yesterday, we took our final picture at the crayons and I watched Ava cross the stage and graduate. Our days of meet the teacher, the school carnival, science projects, and the sheltered existence of elementary school are over. And yes, there were many tears of sadness to see this part of our life end, but also joy that we had made it. They had thrived and learned so much from how to read to how to multiple fractions, and also, how to make work with other people,