Maybe the Last First Day

Monday was the sixth “first day of school” for my son, Jareth, and possibly the final one in which I got to drive him.

We sent Jareth to the preschool in Encampment and, when it came time to choose a school, we opted for Encampment K-12 as he already had a number of friends. Since kindergarten, it has been a tradition for me to drive Jareth to school and walk with him into the building. It is something I have tried not to take for granted, understanding that it won’t be long before he’d rather not have his father take him to his first day of school.

This year, the tradition was nearly upended and perhaps a sign of what’s to come next year.

My wife, Telitha, and I have often talked about the eventuality of Jareth outgrowing us. wanting to be independent and entering that stage of life where his parents are embarrassing rather than cool. Despite those conversations, I was shocked at how much it affected me when it became clear this tradition was almost over.

Last Thursday, as we were on our way to the Encampment school barbecue held before the new school year, we gave Jareth the option for me to take him to school or for him to ride the bus. This is an option we’ve given him since the 3rd grade. The past few years, he has opted to let me take him to school. This year, however, he thought for a few moments before he said he wanted to take the bus. We were driving during this conversation and I quickly did a doubletake to him in the back seat.

I’d be lying if I said I didn’t feel a pang of pain when he first said he wanted to take the bus. That pain, I’m sure, was the realization that my child is growing up faster than I had expected and becoming independent. I made a comment to Telitha that I was a little heartbroken over Jareth’s decision, but told him that I was proud he was becoming more independent.

For her part, Telitha said she’d ask again the day before school.

On Sunday, she came into my home office with the news that Jareth had changed his mind. Instead of riding the bus the first day, she said he wanted me to take him to school for the first day of 5th grade. I double checked with him, just to make sure, and he confirmed what his mother told me.

So, on Monday, he and I made the drive to Encampment for his sixth first day of school. Of course, at this age, he doesn’t wait around as I end up in conversation with other parents or staff members. By the time I caught up with him, he was already in his classroom and chatting with his classmates. I imagine this may be my last first day of school in which I take him to school. If he was ready to ride the bus for 5th grade, he definitely will be for 6th grade.

That’s okay.

As parents, we should be raising our children to grow independent and reach a point where they don’t need us. Or, at the very least, don’t need us as much.

Chances are, he will still need me—and his mom—when he has his first heartbreak or his first sports injury. He will still need me when it’s time to learn how to drive. When that time comes, I’ll do what I’ve done for every other moment of his life. I’ll be there for him the best I can and make sure that, eventually, he won’t need me for those things, either.

As much as it can hurt to see my son grow to where he doesn’t need me as much, I’m so very proud to see him become this independent young man o I’m sure will go on to do great things. I just hope, as I hope every year, that he continues to keep his kind heart and his creative mind along the way.