Gavin graduated from Preschool today. They had a lovely little ceremony and the kids sang several adorable songs and then wore little paper graduation hats and accepted their "diplomas." We admired their drawings on the wall of "what I want to be when I grow up" (a scientist) and then enjoyed cake and lemonade in the Fellowship Hall. I admit to getting a little sniffly. Next year he'll be off to Kindergarten and starting "real school." I have never, with my older children, been one of those moms who frets over milestones in a sad way, mourning the passing of their babyhood and wishing them to stay small. I've been more the kind of mom who looks forward to the next phase and celebrates the transitions, greeting them happily as part of the forward progression of growing up, excited to see who they are becoming and where they will go in life. It's the way I've approached most of my own life, in a headlong rush into the next phase and the one after, always craning for a glimpse around the corner.
With these younger boys, however, I find myself experiencing a lot more of that bittersweet, that panicky sand through my fingers feeling of time flying by and their babyness leaving me. On the radio the other day I listened to an interview with a musician, I don't remember her name. She was talking about a song she'd written; without hearing the interview I'd have assumed it was a typical "breakup/good-bye song," but she said she'd written it for her little boy. That she was watching him grow and thought how much she was going to miss this little person he is right now. That she hoped she'd have a close relationship with the man he would become, but that her little boy would someday be gone forever. That these little children are so...ephemeral. I cried in my car listening to her talk.
So today was the official end of his Preschool year. It's been a great year of growth for him and a wonderfully positive experience. Next year he will begin "Real School" and in just five more years (the infinitesimal amount of time that has passed since Gavin was born) I will be watching my oldest child accept a Real Diploma as he graduates from High School and suddenly I am seeing the sand of his childhood rushing through my fingers too. A part of me wants to cry "stop! stop! Everything is just right right now. Please can we slow down for this phase?" Fortunately, I also still have that piece of me craning to see around the corner and dying to know the grown ups they are going to become. Hopefully the two parts will work their way around to some kind of happy, accepting, living in the present kind of middle ground.
PS (here is a video of parts of the Graduation program. My favorite song, followed by his favorite song and then his "walk.")
