First Day of School
She cries on her children's first day of school.
It's not something she can help and it's not something she does consciously. It's just something that happens.
Every year. With every child.
Sandy's tried to rationalize it to her- her boys were a year closer to independence, her baby was a year further from being a baby, and that's why she's so upset.
Each time she leaves a child behind, she wonders if he's right.
But she can't help but wonder which child it's the worst to leave.
She doesn't know if it's worst when she flies back from Rhode Island each year after helping Seth decorate his dorm, knowing she's leaving her baby to fend for himself.
She doesn't know if it's worst when she leaves Sophie at preschool, letting go of her hand and blowing her kisses as her little girl looks nervously around the room, wondering what to do first.
She doesn't know if it's worst leaving Ryan behind at UC Berkeley, though he's only ten minutes away, knowing she never got to worry about him on his first day of preschool. She hadn't had enough time to cry and fuss over him.
Ryan and Sophie have tried to comfort her. Three-year-old Sophie hugs her and kisses her and tells her, "Mommy, I'll be back later. We can play together later. Don't be sad, mommy." Ryan hugs her and tells her much of the same, if in his own way,
"Kirsten, I'll be home on weekends. You can feed me until my clothes no longer fit on Saturday. I promise I'll be back in five days."
Seth pretends as though he's embarrassed, but when his father, brother, and sister leave the room and it's only he and his mother left, he hugs her and kisses her cheek, makes no promises to come home on weekends, explains that it's a part of life but he'll call her daily, schedule permitting.
Kirsten rolls her eyes and he admits, ok, he'll call her every day, schedule or no.
And as each of her children hugs her and whispers, "Please don't cry. I love you," she thinks somewhere, somehow, she must've done something right.