Today, my older two sons went off to their first day of kindergarten and 2nd grade. My wife went with them. She came back from dropping them off, but a piece of her was missing. It was still with them at school. You see, our sons are both dealing with anxiety in different ways. My oldest son, internalizes it and lets a few tears drop, but he doesn't want to seem vulnerable. My second son just doesn't care. He tells you straight up he's not going, ahead of time. And then he makes you rip him from his car seat, and carry him in while crying those horizontal tears you see in the cartoons. This is the reason Gena didn't return in one piece. She couldn't fathom their suffering without suffering some herself. I commend my wife for taking on such a dreaded task, and seeing it through.
Tomorrow, I get to take a stab at it. I'm one of those guys, where (for the most part) it's out of sight out of mind. So, pray for me between 7:50 am-8:00 am. That's when I'll endure whatever my boys throw my way with assertiveness. I'll do what it takes. After that, I should be ok. But, I have to remember to be more like her when I'm dealing with my children. Gentle, empathetic, and compassionate. No matter how the boys leave my care, tears and all, they should feel loved. "Carry each others' burdens," takes on a whole new meaning when you watch a mother send her two sons off to the first day of school.
What's your back to school story?
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