A chapter closes 

Yesterday was the last full day of preschool for our Preschooler. This years marks our ninth consecutive year there, and it’s harder than I imagined it would be to close the door on this chapter of our lives.

Not much about the specifics of my childhood overlap with that of our girls… except for this preschool. Way back in 1981, I started at the same school housed in the same church. Here’s my {now vintage} class picture from 1983 as proof.

What I didn’t know then, at the pig-tailed age of 5, is that thirty-something years later I would still be walking the halls of that building with daughters of my own in tow.

When the oldest one was eighteen months old, she started there in a toddler class. While she was all smiles in this “first day” picture, her first few weeks involved a teary, dramatic drop-off every time. Love her heart. She had no hair and no clue what was about to happen to her world two days later when her first sister was born.

By the time she was three, she had adapted to her role as the “big sister” and school was her favorite place.

When it was the second one’s turn to start she also faked a happy “first day” pose with her signature toothy smile. Drama didn’t ensue until she realized that I would be leaving her there for awhile.

She, too, soon came around, and grew to love preschool. More than anything else for her, it was a place where she learned to navigate change and push through her shyness to make friends.

Finally, in 2012, the youngest one started there. Being the third child, I sent her one day a week to the baby class. Bless it. She didn’t even know where she was going. She typically “ate well” and slept for approximately 15 minutes or “did not rest today,” as they would document on her daily notes. Little did we know the “did not rest” part would be a trend that would continue throughout her preschool years.

The following year when she started in the toddler class, she was ready to roll with her “pack-back” in hand.

For the youngest one, the preschool has become something of a sacred space. She has walked those halls for years, and the familiar faces of teachers there are like family to her.

I feel like all three girls were well prepped for kindergarten, but more importantly, they were well loved. It’s incredible how much teachers become a part of our story. They shape us in ways we may not realize until years later. And, I think they’ve been shaped by some of the best in some of the most formative years of their lives.

Places shape us, too. From gym time to nature walks and tea parties, the girls have a storehouse of memories created in and around this particular place. Five years ago when we made a cross-town move it would have made far more sense logistically to switch to a preschool closer to our house. And, several times we considered doing so. But, in the end, we always found ourselves making the drive back to this place that felt like home. And, it has been that to us.

Don’t get me wrong. I’ll be happy to have all three children in the same school next year. But I’ll never forget the people or the place that got us started on this journey. For our beloved place of beginning, this is my ode to you…

Thank you for all you’ve done in these my early years.
You’ve held me and helped me and dried up many tears.
You’ve taught me to pray and play and treat my friends with care.
You’ve shown me how it’s better when we all take turns and share.
You’ve taught me how to sing new songs and how to write my name.
I’ve learned so much in your care I’ll never be the same.
You make it hard to leave this place, but I know that as I do
I’m ready and I’m able, and that’s all because of you!

So now I say goodbye to some very special friends
As this chapter closes, a new one just begins!