Family Man: The Kindergarten Blues

My mother warned me about this. With each school milestone, she would weep and hug me so hard I needed the jaws of life to escape.

“My baby’s growing up so fast,” she’d say.

“It’s not that big a deal,” I’d grumble.

“Just you wait ’til you have children of your own. Then you’ll know what it feels like to watch them grow away from you.”

Congratulations, Ma, you were right.

Here I am, standing in the school supplies aisle of Staples, fighting back a torrent of tears. My 5-year-old, that little baby who once crawled on the floors of our city apartment, giggling as he tried to escape my kisses, is heading for kindergarten.

Just a few months ago, we witnessed his “graduation” from preschool. Having a matriculation ceremony for 5-year-olds is a bit over the top, but watching him stand on a stage with 45 other dressed-up kids, singing “Happy Graduation Day” (to the tune of “It’s a Small World”) was as much a thrill as it was a heartache. A thrill because Benjamin grinned brightly enough to create a glare in our camera lens and repeatedly waved to his brother Jacob (now almost 2) as if to say, “I made it, little bro‘. I planted the Keer flag on the terra firma of preschool.” A heartache due to the slide show walk down memory lane in which we viewed our first-born racing on tricycles, throwing his arms around friends, and learning with wonderful teachers over the course of two years that are gone (gulp) forever.