Briar will be going to grade 2 this year. We’ll shop for her first day of school outfit and take the famous first day of school photos. I’ll smile because she makes me so proud, and in her mom’s eyes, she is every bit of perfect. I’ll log onto Facebook and see photos upon photos of all the other kids, their outfits and the cute boards with their dreams of what they would someday like to become. All the milestones they have and will reach.
This year I’ll read posts from the anxious moms out there who are sending their kids off to school for the very first day.
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I know they’ll spend their day wondering and worrying about how the first day of school is going. I can picture them waiting anxiously for the bus to bring their children back home. I remember Briar’s very first day, pacing the floor and watching for the yellow bus to come around the corner. I couldn’t wait to hear all of her stories.
This year is the year that I should be sending Wyatt off to kindergarten.
I should be walking circle and wondering how his day is going. I’ll see the pictures of all of his would-be friends and classmates and I’ll imagine the handsome outfit we would have picked out. I wonder what he would someday like to become. I’ll see his would-be teacher when I drop Briar off. I wonder would he cling to my leg, or run freely into the colorful classroom, filled with exciting toys and new things? The milestones he should be in the middle of. Then I’ll see the empty locker where Wyatt’s name should be.
Except there will be no empty locker – because they won’t know that he should have been there.
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The hardest days of my grief have passed. For a very long time, I never imagined that I could ever be truly happy again. But the grueling days of learning how to live without him have brought me here, to a place where I have again learned to be happy. It’s been almost five years since Wyatt died and not a day goes by that I don’t think about him. So often I find myself wondering what he would be like, and who he would look like.
And as the first day of a new school year gets closer, I’m reminded again that while I can be happy, I know that I will always grieve for our little boy and the lifetime of milestones that will never be.
Photo by Denise Johnson on Unsplash
About the Author: My husband and I currently reside in Goose Bay, NL where we own and operate an outdoor specialty store. We have two daughters and a sweet angel boy who we miss every day.