From the Editor
A Passage Event
As I began thinking about writing this editorial for the September issue, I shook my head in disbelief. Where did the summer go?
Summer breaks seemed long as a child-and they seemed long as the mother of school-age children. Yes, I was anxious to get back into a "school time routine," but I was equally anxious about their lives independent from me. How would they interact with teachers, with peers? Would new friendships come easily for them or not? Would they grasp the subjects being taught or struggle for understanding? Would they be the first-or last one-picked for the team?
I always tried to be brave, but I shed a tear or two when leaving my children at school for the first day. I thought eventually I would become immune to the "first day of separation," but that first day of kindergarten and the first day of college-and every year in between-stimulated the same emotion in me.
We’ve toured the campuses of a few colleges and universities this summer, knowing that next year at this time, the first day of school will be a major life passage for both of us. As I listened to the responses my "baby" gave to the questions from the college admissions counselor, I had to stifle the tears. Where have the years gone? When did she become so smart? When did she become so responsible? When did she become a young woman? When did she become so independent?
During our recent move, I found a Normal Rockwell collectible plate entitled, "A young girl’s dream" that had been boxed away for a few years. It was first in a series called The American Dream, which Rockwell originally painted in 1930. The inscription by Thomas Rockwell, his son, reads, "In her face my father painted the hope and courage that are an essential part of the American Dream."
Typical of the era in which the painting was created, the beautiful young woman sits on a bench in a train station, clutching a hat box on her lap. Rockwell captured the slight nervousness of the event in the young woman’s eyes, but also the determination and excitement of a new adventure. I thought it appropriate to give to my daughter at this stage, as a reminder that an exciting adventure is about to begin.
My daughter knows to expect my brief "choking up" at events. Running cross country, winning an arts award, watching her work at her part-time job, dressed up for prom I’ve tried not to embarrass her and wasn’t sure myself why these emotions were triggered by sometimes normal youthful events. As my sons are older and their school passages were replaced by career choices, marriage, career advances, moves, becoming a business owner-I still choke up. It’s just a mother’s pride welling up, I’ve told them; sometimes a mother’s worry as to what they might find as they walk their chosen path.
So, as I see my daughter off to school this year, traditionally taking her picture at the front door, I pray the passage will be safe and welcoming and exciting. TPW
Summer breaks seemed long as a child-and they seemed long as the mother of school-age children. Yes, I was anxious to get back into a "school time routine," but I was equally anxious about their lives independent from me. How would they interact with teachers, with peers? Would new friendships come easily for them or not? Would they grasp the subjects being taught or struggle for understanding? Would they be the first-or last one-picked for the team?
I always tried to be brave, but I shed a tear or two when leaving my children at school for the first day. I thought eventually I would become immune to the "first day of separation," but that first day of kindergarten and the first day of college-and every year in between-stimulated the same emotion in me.
We’ve toured the campuses of a few colleges and universities this summer, knowing that next year at this time, the first day of school will be a major life passage for both of us. As I listened to the responses my "baby" gave to the questions from the college admissions counselor, I had to stifle the tears. Where have the years gone? When did she become so smart? When did she become so responsible? When did she become a young woman? When did she become so independent?
During our recent move, I found a Normal Rockwell collectible plate entitled, "A young girl’s dream" that had been boxed away for a few years. It was first in a series called The American Dream, which Rockwell originally painted in 1930. The inscription by Thomas Rockwell, his son, reads, "In her face my father painted the hope and courage that are an essential part of the American Dream."
Typical of the era in which the painting was created, the beautiful young woman sits on a bench in a train station, clutching a hat box on her lap. Rockwell captured the slight nervousness of the event in the young woman’s eyes, but also the determination and excitement of a new adventure. I thought it appropriate to give to my daughter at this stage, as a reminder that an exciting adventure is about to begin.
My daughter knows to expect my brief "choking up" at events. Running cross country, winning an arts award, watching her work at her part-time job, dressed up for prom I’ve tried not to embarrass her and wasn’t sure myself why these emotions were triggered by sometimes normal youthful events. As my sons are older and their school passages were replaced by career choices, marriage, career advances, moves, becoming a business owner-I still choke up. It’s just a mother’s pride welling up, I’ve told them; sometimes a mother’s worry as to what they might find as they walk their chosen path.
So, as I see my daughter off to school this year, traditionally taking her picture at the front door, I pray the passage will be safe and welcoming and exciting. TPW