Letting go is hard to do ...
especially that first day of school

by Elaine M. Gibson

September finds more than one parent walking away from a preschool or elementary school classroom with misty eyes. No matter how long a parent has dreamed of the thrill of having a child in school all day, the harsh reality of "letting go" is traumatic. If we could keep our children with us all the time, perhaps we could keep them safe. We wouldn't have to worry. But then again, ALL the time?

The state of being "separate" begins at birth. For nine months, a mother never has to worry about whether or not the child is comfortable or well-fed. Parents know exactly where that child is. It's safe but I've never met a mom who wanted to be nine months pregnant forever.

Birth is anticipated but it brings changes. Parent and child are no longer experiencing the same things. Most new parents feel quite helpless when faced with a tiny baby's first cries. For every cry, parents have to guess the child's needs and try to meet them. Is he too hot, too cold? Is she getting all the nourishment she needs? Is he uncomfortable? With practice, parents may figure out what baby needs and if so, parents feel competent. They can enjoy the comfortable, secure feeling of being baby's lifeline.

Eventually, parents must leave baby with "someone." The lifeline is threatened. "What if my baby's needs are not clear to this other person? How can anyone else possibly do for my child what I do?" Ever parent remembers the first time they left a baby.

The procedure is still as follows. -- Being perfectly normal parents, we leave a small volume of instructions, a case of disposable diapers, pounds of toys, four sets of clothing, car seat, stroller, and enough food for triplets. We refuse to go to any location that does not have a telephone, IN CASE OF AN EMERGENCY!

Getting everything ready takes two hours. We spend 30 minutes briefing the childcare person before we can actually leave. Reluctantly, we finally leave the child, "ALONE." While we are gone, we call just to make sure everything is okay. While we are away, we suffer an attack of the "crazies". "I know I will never see my child again! I am enjoying myself therefore I will probably be run over by a truck on the way home and my child is going to be an orphan! My child needs me and I'm not there. What kind of parents would do this?" After an hour of such "fun", we make a mad dash back to our child.

We usually find a dry, well-fed baby who is sound asleep. We are delighted and depressed at the same time. "I needed that time away; now my child doesn't need me anymore." If we return to find a hungry, wet, upset baby, we are at the same time, delighted and depressed. "My child needs me; but how am I ever going to get any time for myself?" All of this is quite normal and short-lived.

With practice, we learn that our child's needs can indeed be taken care of by other adults. With practice, our children learn that other adults can meet their needs. Children need the security of knowing that others in the world can care for them. Children also need the experience of being separate from their parents. With every new step in freedom and independence, our children grow up. We have to let go of that lifeline for our children and for ourselves, even when it is hard.

Difficult separations are necessary even though every "letting go" includes a period of doubt and anxiety for both parent and child. It never really gets better, just different. Our worries change to fit the situation. Hopefully, our worst fears are never realized and we get used to separating. With successful separation experiences, the "first alone" will seem tame in comparison to all the other firsts for our children: the first time they stay at grandparents for a weekend -- alone; the first time they go off to school -- alone; the first time they walk next door to a friend's house -- alone; the first time they walk to school -- alone; the first time they go out with friends -- alone; the first time they go on a date -- not alone!

They are seldom alone but they are without their parents. Separation anxiety is part of parenting. New demands for separation usually bring on the unrealistic worries and we are surprised by our own lack of sanity. No one has ever claimed that parenting is a sane venture. The anxiety may not be sane, but it is normal and we all get through such times. Experience makes each subsequent separation easier and every new situation will still tug at our emotional strings.

We all face a child's uncertain future with worry. At the same time, we look back at the end of an era with a touch of sadness for what will never be again. We bravely separate despite the anxieties, allowing our children to face a new part of their world without us. Then, when they are gone, we can be as misty-eyed as we want to be.