End Of Summer

It's the end of summer as we know it. Sheila here, and that's always how I feel when the school years rolls around again. I'm not at work today because it's my daughter's first day of school. She starts her junior year today, and it blows my mind. First of all, I don't feel old enough to have a child who's a junior in high school. But mostly, it's just hard to believe how fast the time goes.

When Ric, Katie and I moved here, she was about to start kindergarten. We got here too late to get her into our parish school, so she went to the Little Red School House. It was a wonderful place, but I cried all the way home in the car after I took her to school that first day.

Somehow the first day of first grade was worse though, I think because that was the first time I had to put Katie on the big yellow school bus. My neighbor down the street was watching her youngest son, the last of four, go off to class, and she was so elated, she was almost dancing. Me, on the other hand, I was fighting back the tears as my little Katie excitedly climbed on the bus and didn't look back.

This will be the first year Katie drives herself to class. She's not so enthusiastic about the first day of school these days, but even after all these years, I still cry on the first day. The first day symbolizes another year of my life gone by, another step toward the day when Katie goes off on her own. It's getting so, so close now. I sure am proud of the young lady she's become, but I can't help always seeing that little girl getting on the bus.