Welcome back! It was so wonderful to see such happy children (and parents!) returning to school these last two days. Everyone seems to have grown three inches over these past two weeks and seem ready to be back (though some do feel a bit of trepidation after such a long break – which is totally normal!).
This vacation my eldest took her first plane ride alone as an unaccompanied minor. She was travelling to Williamsburg, Virginia for a post-bat mitzvah trip with my in-laws. We packed her suitcase and taxied to the airport. We shopped for some magazines and candy at the airport, and then the time arrived: I needed to hug her goodbye and pass her off to the custody of the US Air flight attendant. We hugged, we kissed and then I needed to release her. She bravely walked through the gate, just smiling as she departed. When she got on the plane she texted me “on the plane and I am the only one on the flight – it is awesome!” The texting continued over the next minutes as she waited on the runway. I could see the airplane through the windows of LaGuardia airport. She seemed eerily close and very far at the very same time. As she continued to text me I felt reassured by the contact, enjoying her observations and the sweet way we could continue to stay in touch. And then she sent a text “Got to turn off my phone. I will call you when i land! i love you!” I watched the plane begin to move. I saw it head towards the runway and then it went out of my sightline.
I sat at the airport for another few minutes, gazing out of the window in a state of disbelief and with my heart in my throat. A big shehechianu moment. This marked another big separation, individuation, and experience of literally letting go so that she could fly. After taking a few moments, I picked myself up and headed back into the city. About an hour later the texts from Gabriella resumed “Flying over Virginia and there are tons of trees! It is so green.” Who knew that she could text from thousands of feet above land? (I am certain this was against FAA regulations though I was grateful for the contact.) And then she reported that the plane had touched down and finally that she had been received by her Grandma and Grandpa. I took a deep sigh, relieved for her to be on land, though hundreds of miles away.
In some ways this experience felt new and uncharted for me and for our family, but in many ways this was but another experience in the journey of parenthood. We want to hold on, to protect our children, but we need to let them go. We support them as we can – first by literally holding their hands as they take first steps, then walking them into their first classrooms, and for me, now taking her to the gate. We stay close and connected when we can, in contact till they can take off, but then off my girl went! She had an incredible adventure. She felt proud to have taken this trip on her own. She weathered the anxious return trip that involved a cancelled flight and racing through the Richmond airport with her grandparents to make an alternate flight. And while I missed her a great deal, she returned seeming even older, taller, and more grown up. Each of these formative experiences help our children grow.
As the weather changes and we head into May I know that many of you are beginning to think about the separations ahead. For some you are approaching your last year here at the JCC, and all of you are facing an end to this year’s class experience. We all approach endings differently and sometimes we find ourselves surprised by what feelings emerge. Sometimes we have flashbacks of our own experiences, of people whom we miss or who are not here, of our children at other points, and sometimes we feel anxious for our children and ourselves, as we consider the unknowns that lie ahead.
Watching our children grow and develop is an exciting, sometimes terrifying and always feeling-filled experience. While these moments are not all as dramatic or symbolic as seeing our child take flight, there are elements of this experience that we all face each and every day. We must take our children as far as we can, trust that they can take the steps that they need to on their own, and know that we can reconnect at the end, sharing our separateness while always grateful for the togetherness.
Wishing you all a wonderful weekend of togetherness.
Ilana received her B.A. from Harvard College and a Master's Degree in Education from Bank Street College. She was born and raised on the Upper West Side of Manhattan and now lives there with her husband and three children.
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