My oldest son started kindergarten this morning. He’s attending a very nice school and should receive a world class education over the next several years. I’m happy and excited for him and about as proud as I can be. He will be a good student once he connects his natural curiosity with the knowledge available to him via the teachers. He’s a pretty bright kid and will probably develop into a musician or an actor, something that involves performance.
I wish I could’ve been there to walk him inside and give him a big hug and kiss. I wish I could’ve seen the look of wonder, excitement, fear, and uncertainty in his brown eyes. I wish I could’ve told him that he was going to do great, that everything was going to be fine, and that he would be going home at the end of the day. But I’m 500 miles away and have to work.
I would’ve settled for talking to him over the phone, telling him those things, soothing his fears, and conveying my pride. A phone call would’ve at least let him know that daddy was there with him, thinking about him and encouraging him to do well. A phone call wouldn’t have been perfect, but it would’ve sufficed.
Unfortunately, his mother chose not to let me be a part of this morning. In her skewed view of our rights as parents, she believed it better to leave me out until this evening. I have my own theories as to her motives, but I won’t share them here. I will say that I will never forgive her for denying me my right to be a part of his life. Nothing will ever give me back this morning. It’s a milestone that happens only once. Sure, there will be other milestones, but to a professional educator and a good father, this one was pretty special to me.
There simply aren’t words for how hurt and angry I am.