They Said It Would Go Fast [on twins, growing up, and letting go]
I can tell they’re nervous. My son, Elijah, says as much, and my daughter, Isabel, sits quietly in the car. She’s almost never quiet, her silence a sure sign of apprehension. We pull into the parking lot and climb out of the minivan, my twins donning new backpacks, lunchboxes and masks. As we walk down the sidewalk, their nervousness spills over with a few tears and a thousand questions.
What if we don’t know where to go?
When do we eat lunch?
Where will you pick us up?
What if we forget something?
I answer each question and reassure them the teachers will help. No one expects them to know everything on the first day of first grade—especially after being homeschooled for kindergarten thanks to a global pandemic. Everything is new, exciting, scary. We reach the door of the school, and Elijah describes himself as “nerv-cited.”
I stand near the school entrance, next to the flagpole where I promise to meet them at 3:30 p.m., and watch them walk hand in hand through the doors. My gut hurts seeing them go, but they’re ready. After the last year and a half of chaos at home, I’m ready too. But there’s still trepidation, fear, uncertainty in my heart, and I ask myself some of their same questions: Will they know where to go? Will they eat all their lunch? Will they remember where I’ll pick them up? What if they forget something?
So many veteran parents said it would go fast; on the sleepless nights and scream-filled days, I didn’t agree. But now, I watch these two walk together into the looming red brick building, and it looks like it's swallowing my babies whole.
Continue reading this essay at Coffee + Crumbs.
Don’t miss the rest of this essay at C+C!
