This weekend I was shopping at Target and felt a little nostalgic watching all the parents and kids stocking up on notepads and pens. I remember the thrill of picking out a new outfit for the first day of school and filling my backpack with my shiny, new school supplies.
I never minded school, although I did better as I grew older. When I was younger, I just wanted to play with my dolls or read when I got home. And maybe, on occasion, I forgot to do my homework until right before class. Oops.
One of my earliest memories of school was actually my first day of kindergarten. I don’t actually remember school, I guess, but the bus ride vividly lives on in my memories. Back then, there was morning and afternoon kindergarten and I went to the afternoon classes.
My Mom helped me onto the bus and fortunately there was another girl headed to kindergarten too. We happily sat with one another until the bus stopped at a school that wasn’t ours. Everyone got off the bus except for the two of us.
We did what any rational kindergartener would do when they didn’t understand what was happening. We looked at each other and started bawling our eyes out. Fortunately, our bus driver, Pete, had been driving kids to school for years, so tears and lost kindergartners were nothing new.
We did change buses but can’t recall much else about kindergarten. I hope that’s not a sign that I’m getting old, although it probably is! 🙂 It’s strange the things we remember. Some memories I want to keep and others I’m happy to let go.
That’s life, I guess. A great, big pile of memories. We can choose which ones to hold dear and celebrate. It’s a wonderful life if we choose it to be.
And I do.