There's an elevator at my therapist's office that smells just like my kindergarten classroom. The first time I stepped inside, I recognized it immediately even though I've not set foot in that room since I was 5. And every time I take the elevator to my appointment, I remember my kindergarten self. I recall my first day--the outfit I wore and where my assigned seat was on the carpet in front of our teacher.
Every year at this time I am reminded of how much I did love being in school.
This week, I've driven by the neighborhood kids waiting for the bus on my way to work and I silently wish them the best. That they make good friends and don't get swallowed by the middle school darkness.
That they make the soccer team and their show choir audition goes well and that they have memories they can smile at.
I hope that school brings them joy.
And then, at the end of it all, that it makes them excited to grow up.
Here's to first days.
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