Tomorrow will be my last Back to School night, the final of 13 annual treks to school to get the lay of the land for the year ahead.
It is bittersweet.
Even as a mom I carry a childlike excitement about the start of school, with its new supplies, different teachers and vast stores of things to learn.
This year, I will surely not find out about the rules for quiet time in kindergarten, or how the kids will learn the solar system.
I will not get an overview of the second-grade butterfly life cycle project, which is mentioned in this decade-old Back to School note from Catherine.
Nor will I hear about the class ballet, or opera, or the trip to Boston. There will be no remarks about the new requirements and responsibilities of being in middle school. Or about the class trip to Washington, D.C.
Nope. Tomorrow, I will hear about forensics and statistics, Honors World Literature, psychology, advanced Spanish and the Honors Family Development class. I will also get a pep talk about the chorus’ February trip to Hawaii. And I’ll feel, one last time, like a salmon swimming upstream in the swarm of parents filling the halls during “passing time.”
Surely, I will again wonder how Catherine manages to get around and across the school in time for each of her classes.
This time, though, I might pause just a little bit at the end of the night for one extra beat, just to soak up the promise of this one last year.