The First day... and the Last day

He's gone.
They're all gone.

Happy. Adjusted. Hopefully being kind and respectful.
Meeting friends. Learning. Laughing and cavorting carefree.
We've counted down the days like a Advent calendar.
Middle school. Fifth Grade. Kindergarten.

That's the one that hurts the most.
Kindergarten.
That's the one I knew to be prepared for.
That's the one where I knew I was going to lose it.

"It's over" I lament to my hubby through tears and heartache.
"No, babe, It's okay. It's just beginning."

"No. 
My part.  
It's over."

And it is.
A finished chapter.
We are no longer pre-school.
We are school. All of them. School.

I did my part. And, man, I loved my part.
I relished my part.
Years and years of juggling stay-at-home with night shift and day shift.
I miss that part. Just Being there in that part.
I dream of the stumbling to the crib for exhausted nursing sessions.
I would fight for a giggle or a coo.
I miss the structure of nap-time. Notes on the door daring anyone to ring the doorbell.
It's so quiet.
It's so lonely.

I think the ache is knowing I won't get to play that part again.
With any of them.
All 3 gloriously grown.
But the glare. The glare of Kindergarten blinds my heart as I let go.

And yes.
I know they still need me for the new chapters.
Thankfully so.

But it's not the same.
Permission slips replace kisses.
Backpacks replace blankies.
Lunchboxes replace bibs.

I knew to be ready for Kindergarten.
I knew I never would be.