The Last Day of Kindergarten

Kindergarten ended this week for Betsy. She made it through, and more importantly, I did, too.

Watching your kid grow up is emotional. One day she has a new BFF, the next she doesn't. It's like watching the stock market.

When she was a baby all my friends that were parents said, "Enjoy this time. It will go fast." At the beginning it did not go fast enough. I could hardly wait until she walked, talked and could read at a sixth-grade level.

Now, at 5-and-3/4 years old, my friends who were parents were right.

I can't believe Kindergarten is over. I will miss Betsy telling us about "free play" and who got into fights. I will miss packing lunches and rushing out the door in the morning to walk her to school. Yes, I’ll have to do it all over again starting in the fall when she’s in first grade, but it will never be Kindergarten again. Next year, she’ll be just a little bit older.

For the last nine-and-a-half months we’ve had the same morning routine. I would walk her across the street and take her to the back door of the school, where I would say "Goodbye! Have a nice day at school!" And if I was really brave I would say, "I love you Elizabeth." (She is Betsy at home, and Elizabeth at school, but signs her name Liz because it takes less time. She's learning time management.)

Then the morning of the last full day of Kindergarten, something changed. We got about 20 feet away from the back door, and a group of older kids were standing in front. As we got closer, she whispered to me, "Dad, you can go."

What?

"Dad, you can go."

She felt self-conscious that I was standing with her and wanted her independence. I was caught by surprise. I know that my friends who are parents would say, "That’s a sign you are doing a good job as a parent."

I said, "Bye, Betsy," and watched her head past the older kids into the school.

If this was hard, I can't imagine what it’s going to be like when I have to drop her off at college for the first time.

I walked away feeling really sad. But as Betsy said to me the other day, "Dad, there is such a thing as happy tears." I had never thought about it that way. Unfortunately, I almost never let myself cry, but if I could, I know that right now I would be crying happy tears.

Want to study with Jimmy Carrane? There's still time to sign up for his in-person Long Form Scene Tune-Up on June 18 or the Art of Slow Comedy Summer Intensive Aug. 6-7!