Dear Diary: The Heart Wrenching Journey of Letting Go

The Heart Wrenching Journey of Letting Go

Dear Diary,

I thought yesterday was hard. And it was. Dropping my 5-year-old off for her first day of Kindergarten was not easy for my mama heart. Not at all. I selfishly want to keep her beautiful being all to myself. But man, is she ready! She's made that very clear. Even at drop-off, she practically waltzed into her class, barely saying goodbye to me. She didn’t even say anything to her daddo until I prompted her.

Today was another level.

There was no walking her into school, holding her sweaty little hand. She looked equally grown and yet so small wearing her backpack as she made her way in. The saddest part? I had to drive away while she was still walking. There was no waving her all the way to the door. No kisses being blown and caught. I had no choice but to drive away. My heart was shattered.

Then it was the 3-year-old's turn. It was about a 20-minute drive to her school. Just 5 minutes after dropping her sister off, she started crying and saying she didn't want me to leave her. I think watching her sister walk away alone hit her too. She cried the whole way to school. I held it together, but all I wanted to do was cry with her.

We were early, so we walked around the school a little bit. We peeked over the fence at the playground and even went pee in the mini toilet I keep in the car for emergencies. We met a couple of her classmates who were also waiting outside. Slowly, she started to act more and more like herself.

I walked her to the classroom. All parents were invited in on the first day. The little girl ahead of us barely looked back at her parents. They didn’t go in; they just said goodbye at the door and walked away. My little 3-year-old took her bag from me, stopped in the doorway, looked at me, and said, "Mommy, I want you to leave now."

Diary, nothing ever prepared me for this. How can they be so tiny and helpless one moment and then suddenly ready to take on the world? My heart doesn’t understand this at all.

I quickly hugged her and kissed her, then turned to go. As I stepped out, I turned around—she was sitting at the table coloring. But she looked up with her red little cheeks and an odd little expression on her face that I’ve never seen before. I asked if she was okay, and she gave the tiniest nod. It was so hard to leave, but I knew if I stayed a moment longer, I wouldn’t be able to hold the tears back any longer.

My babies. My heart. Being a parent is hard. I thought it was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. I was wrong: letting them go is even harder.

Love,

Della