The Eve of the First Day, back to School

The Eve of the First Day, back at School 

by 

Breda Kingston 

“So, you two, let’s do the list and let’s make it good!’’ I announced, on the eve of the first day of summer. 

‘’Mom?’’ asked Julian.

 ‘’Yes,’’ I replied, slightly distracted while choosing the colour of markers we would use.

 ‘’We should add as many things as possible to the list that were not allowed during the scary time’’. I pause to gather myself, jolted by the memory deeply imprinted on my young son’s mind. 

‘’Yes,’’ I managed. ‘’You are right, a great idea! Let’s go big! We have making up to do!’’ 

‘’Museums,’’ said Julian. 

‘’Yes,’’ I replied. 

‘’All Museums!’’

 ‘’Sure.’’ 

‘’Trampoline Park,’’ said Alice excitedly. Walks, long walks without having to avoid other people, or being avoided, were added. Train journeys, bus journeys, and boat trips without masks. 

‘’Mom?’’

 ‘’Yes?’’ 

‘’ Remember when I couldn’t breathe? Remember when I couldn’t see a child’s smile and they couldn’t see mine?”

‘’Yes, I remember Alice. I remember your courage.’’

 ‘’ The Cinema,’’ exclaimed Julian, full of glee, at the suggestion of an outing, to a theatre full of smiling children! ‘’Done,’’ I say.

Coastlines, river walks, bird watching, cloudspotting, and playdates including visits to our Tree Friends to thank them for being there when nothing made sense. Hug and touch all those we love. 

‘’Mom,’’ said Alice.  ‘’Do you remember when you had to leave for a long time? When Nana became ill? 

 I paused, again to gather. ‘’Yes, I remember it. I remember your kindness.’’

 ‘’Pizza! Don’t forget about pizza,’’ exclaimed Julian with a wry smile ‘’When it’s dark, at nighttime, maybe even past bedtime!’’ 

‘’Yes,’’ I say. 

‘’Can I taste wine?’’ 

‘’No.’’ 

‘’But it’s made from grapes!’’ 

‘’No!’’ 

‘’A dog?’’ said Alice. 

‘’No’’. 

‘’A cat?’’ 

‘’No Chance,’’ bellowed their dad through the office door. 

‘’A guinea pig?’’ 

‘’OK…. bedtime.’’ 

The summer passed, unrushed and unshackled, with no need for clocks, time fluid, warm and friendly. Then five days, four, three, two and we arrive finally, at the last day of summer, our last day of freedom.  We wade through the house, quietly. In the kitchen, I hear a faint rustling of cereal boxes and the fridge door opening and closing. No chatter, not even an argument.

‘’Mom?’’

 ‘’Yes.’’ 

‘’I didn’t sleep well,’’ sighed Julian. ‘’I’m scared’’. I brush the side of his face with my hand. 

‘’I know. Me too a little’’.

 ‘’We did a great job on our list, Thanks Mom’’.

 ‘’We did. I enjoyed every single day with you both, thank you.’’ I watch their eyes glaze over, teary and defeated. If eyes were words, they would say:

‘’Please don’t send us away. Keep us here with you. We don’t want to be rushed. I find it hard to sit still for so many hours, my uniform scratches and irritates me. I’m overwhelmed in my big classroom, even though I like school and my friends. I feel full up yet keep smiling. I keep trying. Sometimes, I’m homesick. Teachers are busy. Rushed. Some kids don’t understand me. Everyone moves so fast, galloping ahead, I fall off. I’m excited too. I’m anxious. Can I feel those two things at the same time? Can I just stay here?’’ 

My eyes reply with heavy, full tears. I pause. I think. Wait. 

Let’s not take out the schoolbags just yet, label the books, try on the uniforms. Let’s not put the lunch boxes on the countertop in full view and line up the shoes. I can do overtime tonight while they sleep. Mute all notifications, block out all attempts at ending this, before it’s over. This is the last day, but it’s still ours. Let’s keep going…our list is not yet finished. 

It seems we may have saved the best for last. ‘’Jules, Alice…. get your jackets on.’’ I shout upstairs, disrupting their melancholy teeth brushing. ‘’I’ll pack the bag’’. Water, snacks, a small towel, binoculars, sunscreen (in case), the bird book. 

‘’Are we going out, Mom?’’ in chorus. 

‘’Today? But….’’

 ‘’Yes, it’s still summer! We have a whole, long, full day ahead. Can you believe it! How lucky is that? Let’s go!’’ They stare in disbelief at this new development. We hold hands and head towards the train station. The sun is shining. Bright. Warm. We feel something. Joy. Excitement. Nervous. All mixed up together at the same time. It’s no longer an ending, it’s a beginning. 

We pass by the coastline, shores and islands of our summer. As the train bobs from side to side, soothing and familiar, we spot waders feeding in the mud banks. We guess the names and consult the book. Herons know nothing of what looms ahead, so let’s focus on them for now. It’s our stop. We stroll slowly. Unrushed. 

‘’Mom?’’ 

‘’Yes?’’ 

‘’Where are we going? Or do you even know?’’ says Alice suspiciously referring to all the days we hopped on the train, not fully knowing where we were going until we got there. 

‘’Yes. I do know where we are going, actually.’’ I smiled back at her. It’s the last item on the list. 

‘’No way!'' 

 First, we’ll skim stones, dip our feet in the sea, and breathe. Ice cream, two scoops. Of course. 

They run ahead, through the doors of the aquarium. I hurriedly buy the tickets and we head straight towards them. It’s almost like they are waiting for us, smiling, knowing.  As tiny hands are placed up against the glass…they are spellbound. It’s immediate. I notice their shoulders dropping, brows soften, and hands unclench. We sit and watch the stingrays glide by us, for hours, as if in slow motion. They seem strangely unreal today. Surreal. Not of the world we inhabit, a world of their own. Like the one we have created for ourselves. At times they seem to come closer, to touch the tiny hands, as if saying ‘’Don’t Worry. It's going to be OK.’’ 

‘’Mom?’’ 

‘’Yes?’’ 

‘’They look like they are flying, not swimming’’. Light beams down through the water, making it shimmer as the majestic stingrays flap their ‘wings’ like creatures of the sky, not sea. The aquarium is busy, yet we don’t hear a thing. It’s as if we are listening with our eyes.

I nestle in close beside them now, unclench my own hand and place it on the glass. ‘’Let’s remember this, OK. Remember how you feel right now. In the moments when you feel trapped or homesick, think of them, come back here in your mind, I’ll be sitting here, right beside you.’’