the window into boyhood

On your first day of Kindergarten, I watched you find your place on the rug from a crowd of hovering parents. I guess I wanted a weepy goodbye, a tight squeeze, a nervous glance or two as you maneuvered through the other children but it was nothing dramatic like that. "Bye mom" you said confidently as though you'd been going to Kindergarten forever. I found myself holding my breath watching you settling into your spot sure that the pre-school version of yourself would rise up to look at me with a face of panic and worry but you didn't. The blonde boy next to you stretched his mouth wide into a silly shape that made you laugh. You smiled at the prospect of a new friend than covered your mouth to show him you were listening to the teacher. He goaded you again "look at this," he said pointing to the book on the shelf. You smiled again shaking your head up and down in agreement but returned your hands to your mouth to prevent yourself from giggling. I wanted to stay right there in the thick of it all and watch you soak in all the newness of school. Your first recess, your first lunch in the cafeteria, your first sip from those small people drinking fountains. I thought for sure I'd leave with a heavy heart or least with a face full of tears but your happy energy surged through me and gave me confidence that you would not need to touch your hand to your cheek to remember the kiss I had imprinted in case you were lonely or sad. Nope it seemed clear when you smiled at me one last time you would hardly have time for fear.