The first day of school routine

As I prepare my daughter, C, to go to primary school next year, my heart aches. Real, physical, ache. I’ve read about grief being triggered at festive seasons and milestones so this does not surprise me. Going through it is still difficult.

My mum was still working when I was schooling. But I never felt her absence in my daily experience. She was always awake way before I was, calling for me to wake up. She prepared snacks for me to bring to school - I remember peanut butter and/or jam sandwiches, veggie sticks, fruits. It was always a surprise.

I felt connected to her when I opened her little package for me - there was joy and comfort in those moments, even when I got the dreaded celery sticks.

When I reached home after school, I’d phone her at her workplace to tell her all about my day and what I was going to do at home. And if I forgot to call, she’d ring home to speak to me.

An unfortunate routine that we had at the start of every new school year involved anxiety attacks. I’d go to school, full of nerves, holding in all my emotions (fear, anxiousness, loneliness) through the day, until I reached home and unleashed my tears. It became such a reliable pattern that my mum would take time off work for the first week of school to soothe and comfort me.

I’d collapse into her arms, a heap of tears, as all my bottled up thoughts came spilling out to her. Never once did she make me feel awful about myself. Nor defective. Never once did she lose her patience with me, hoping some sterner disposition might help me snap out of it.

She only surrounded me with her unconditional love while I cried, and cried, and cried.

I’d eventually settle into school as the days passed and my irrational fears shrank, and no one at school ever suspected any of this. I had often worried that C would inherit my affliction, but always felt assured that the person who helped me out of mine would be able to support C too. Now that my mum is no longer with us, I can only pray that if the situation arises, I can channel her unconditional love and tremendous patience to help C ride it out.