School

Hannah would have started 3^rd grade today. And Zoe would have started kindergarten. Laurel and I spent many a conversation day dreaming about what it would be like to have the two older kids in school full time. We both had a long way to go until complete daytime kiddo freedom, but when you have more than one kid, going back to only have one to take care of full-time is like a little mini vacation. Especially when they still nap.

Lucy would have gone back to preschool in a few weeks. And it would have been the first time in six years that I would not have met Laurel in the preschool parking lot to walk the kids in together. We joked that I should come to drop off and pick up a few times a week just to stave off the culture shock.

We both knew this school year would bring change, and bring it in spades. But I never in a million years would have guessed that she wouldn’t be a part of that change. I never in a million years would have thought that the first day of school would bring so much sadness at opportunity lost.

I’m coming to realize that is one of the hardest things about this particular loss. Knowing that we all lost the chance to watch these three amazing girls grow up. Knowing that I won’t get to see what brilliance Hannah bestows upon the world. Knowing that I won’t get to see what kind of gigantic artistic mark Zoe will leave. Knowing that I won’t get to see Lucy continue to blossom into the sweetest, funniest little girl I’ve ever known. There will always be a what if. I will always play over and over in my head the hypothetical conversations Laurel and I used to have postulating over what our children would be when they grew up.

And today is a gigantic, tangible reminder of that. And man, does that break my heart even further, if that’s even possible. So I am endeavoring to pay that much closer attention to my own kiddos. Watching Nora Lee absolutely bloom with every passing day she spends in kindergarten. Watching Elijah be SO big and conquer all of this knowledge they keep throwing at him. And Laurel must have given Jamison her sparkler at some point (or made one for him) because that boy lights me up every single day, just like she used to do. I have these three amazing, burgeoning lives right before my very eyes. And today, more than ever, I am utterly, to the very core of my being, grateful for the chance to watch them grow, in every moment and in every day.