Kindergarten / Parenting Blog

This is what it sounds like, when Grandma cries

Say hello to Molly.

Molly is the Bear’s bear. Not her favorite bear. Well, some days she is.

Molly has been at Grandmom’s house for some time, at least the whole summer but probably longer than that.

On Monday night, Molly left Grandmom’s house and came back to live with us. Grandmom was shaken. She cried when she saw Molly in our car. She admitted to crying poolside the next day.

I guess it’d help if I fill in some of the blanks here.

Since the Bear was born nearly 5.5 years ago, she’s been spending just about every other Friday with her Grandmom (known lovingly as Mom mom). The Bear loved these Fridays. Mom mom loved them as well. It was their time to bond, play, paint nails, swim, go ride a carousel or to the theater, dine out, hang out and snuggle. Great days.

Molly worked her way into this story the day she came to live at Mom mom‘s. While the Bear spent only 1 of 14 days there, Molly enjoyed the comforts of Mom mom‘s home every day. A life of leisure for sure. Uninterrupted sleep, long naps, days spent soaking up the breeze from the ceiling fan while reading a book in the rocking chair. A nice life.

This past weekend the Bear found Molly’s straw hat. It’d been missing for a while. She discovered it buried inside a shoebox full of mismatched toy pieces, hidden deep within the Bear’s closet.

Mom mom cried when Molly said goodbye. In Mom mom‘s eyes, a piece of the Bear’s childhood was ending, as was a piece of her relationship with the Bear. You see, on Monday, August 17th the Bear begins full day, full week Kindergarten. The take-Molly-home move was seen as a symbol of the Bear’s realization that those every-other-Fridays are finished. Best to pack up your stuff and move along.

In actuality, the Bear had remembered the recently-found-hat when she saw Molly this week. She brought her home to reunite Molly with the head piece. Such a simple act stirred so much emotion. I must admit, my girl is pretty bright but the I’m-not-going-to-be-back-here-during-the-week-ever-again-so-I’ll-take-my-bear-home thing was a stretch.

Even so, the act made concrete the finality of a cherished tradition. Just another sign that childhood lasts only so long. While new traditions can and will be forged, and with them pleasant new memories created, some things can never be replaced or duplicated.

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