You always can feel the end of summer by the increasing frequency of advertisements for back to school shopping, the sunsets that creep up on you earlier each night, and your growing annoyance with your children. Is it time to send these pig headed kids back to school yet? Why yes it is.

This year, Son #1 started first grade; a full day of school where my wife has to get up and prepare a lunch which most likely he’ll never eat. As most things go, my work always seems to draw me in and threatens my opportunity to do things which require personal time and commitment. This time it was Son #1's first day of first grade. Yes maybe kindergarten is a bigger milestone in this age bracket. But this is his first day of full day school. There's a lot of emotion wrapped up in this kid. More than your typical offspring. He was conceived in a time of our life that was full of pain, self destructive and hopeless. And like a Phoenix rising from the proverbial ashes, we found out we were pregnant with him and life was suddenly and eternally altered. We lost our memory on the past which had hardened our hearts and refocused our hope for the future.

Moments like that cannot be accurately or effectively communicated in a blog like this. So much emotion, so much fear, so much loss.....so much hope.

Milestones for Son #1 are that much more amplified because of the context under which he was conceived and born. He represents an iconic and timeless milestone of how far we came and how much he saved two people. In an effort to not drudge up anymore more about the past, let's talk about the first day of first grade.

Work nearly ruined it for me the night before as well as my obligation to meetings and corporate servitude the following day. But that morning, my wife and I got up and took him to school together. Now we had to take two different cars being that I had to get to work. When I didn't hop in my wife's car and into my own instead, Son #1 lost it. Screaming at his mother, he told her in his unique high pitched wale that I was supposed to take him to school.

I'm realizing that we’re entering a stage where his associations with me are growing and he’s yearning to spend every moment with me. Whether that be to learn or to be a little man. I'm learning patience and tolerance when he narrates everything I do like working on redoing the landscaping in the backyard and I aggravate a wrist injury and he continues to talk about it. I'm reminded that he’s learning to be a man and handle what’s thrown his way.


Dropping him off at school, he gravitates toward his friends and we slightly fade into the fray of other parents. You then carry on the small talk with the other parents about how you’re glad to get the kids out of the house and get back into a routine. Secretly, you’re worrying about this new milestone you’re now passing. You’re on the high speed highway of life and there are no off ramps or places to u-turn. I think that’s what scares most parents; that inability to get a redo or a replay. This is the first and last first day of first grade. This memory is unique in that regard and can never be experienced the same way again. Even if Son #1 was a moron and had to repeat first grade, this feeling during this exact moment is unique and is now gone. You are on to the next memory.

On a humorous note, looking around the playground as we wait for the first bell to line these rug rats up, I notice that many of the moms are playing the role. Showing up in the big truck or SUV in their stylish knockoff sunglasses and wearing their new pant set from Buckle even though they’re too old to shop there. The dads that are there are stoic and uncomfortable. Who knows why. Maybe they're uncomfortable because they’re checking out the other moms. I think it's more a fear of the realization that moms can be hot.

Back to the real story. The bell rings and the flurry of short people surround you. They all run into the courtyard between the buildings in an organized chaos. Almost like a mini flash mob of kids on the first day of school. I was waiting for them to break in to some choreographed Lady Gaga song. That never happened. Instead, they all lined up behind their teachers, Son #1 included. Then they marched into the school and into their classrooms and were gone. It was only parents now and well, we had to leave.

On the drive to work, I had one of those surreal ethereal moments where I knew it was best that I pull over to capture it. I have friends with kids that are now being born, kids that are starting preschool, kids that are starting grade school, kids that are starting junior high, and kids going to college. We all are sharing a cumulative moment of first days of school. And while it's a collective sharing of parental firsts, it's uniquely different for all of us. The contextual nature of our story is different from yours.

We all share the same prided and concern over the sands of time slipping through our fingers. But we all differ too in exactly how it connects with our souls. For me personally, it's almost a how did I get here type of concept. Not even seven years ago the landscape of life was much darker. Son #1 gave me hope. Moments like this are uniquely empowering and rewarding all in one instance. You can lose yourself forever in those few seconds.


Traveling up the highway to work, I was caught off guard with how rewarded and fortunate I’ve been over the years. God never gave me more than I could handle. I didn't know it seven years ago. I thought the end was upon me. I was happy and successful, arrogant and greedy. Then I lost a lot. We grounded ourselves and were rewarded with Son #1. Now we continue to be emotionally rewarded.