Kindergarten

One night in August, I had one of those vivid pregnant dreams that was so emotion-ridden that I could not shake it. Even a month later, I could not shake it. It was so saturated with the very tenderest of feelings, that I awoke from it with a soaked pillow and tears flowing down my cheeks. A very disturbing experience.
The dream played out Nolan's first day of school in such detail that I was reluctant for the approach of reality's version. The month following necessitated the wearing of a mask and some dramatics. I could not let on how very little I looked forward to sending Nolan to Kindergarten. He was excited. I feigned excitement.

Riding a bus is awesome!
Teachers are kind and gentle!
New friends!
Circle time!
Neat things to learn!
Fun projects to make!
Lunchtime in a cafeteria is an adventure!
Recess on the playground is great!

These, I rehearsed again and again, as much for my own reassurance as for his.

And then reality encroached. The four of us waited at the end of our driveway in the rain, chattering excitedly (hiding trepidation). The bus approached, the man at the wheel smiled, there were hugs, kisses, waving, last assurances offered, and he was gone, off on his first big adventure independent of his mother. It pulled at my heart, but I put on my mask and bravely waited the day, with a lonely younger brother, for the bus to return.

When it did, my five year old hopped off, looked up at me, and said, "I liked school!"