It begs the question: Why? Why? Why?
The youngest of four, I was last to leave the nest. It was a warm, cozy nest; a nest where my mother made delicious chocolate chip cookies, warm from the oven, special just for me when others were at school; a nest where the peanut-butter cookies, also warm, had special criss-crosses on them; where aproned mom sang from the door: "K,K, K, Katy; K-K-K Katy, beautiful Katy...I'll be waiting at the k-k-k kitchen door."
And then, school loomed. The unknown. The great abyss.
But, as second days are, it was so much better. (Love the bangs - thanks, Mom!)
- My brother, Tom, was bus monitor (he may have been quickly appointed in this role to get me onto the bus - whether official appointment or parental-appointed, it mattered not. He was there to guide me;
- Mrs. Jorgensen: my beautiful kindergarten teacher with dark bouffant hair-style. She had a Jackie-O'ness about her. Who wouldn't want to be her?
- My classroom. I was smitten: it had a side room with a peaked ceiling, all skylights welcoming in the sun, clouds and light. And, inside, a huge, metal slide. As big and wonderful as those in the playgrounds. Perfect. Extra perfect because it was never scorching hot.
- Snack and nap-time: graham crackers, cold milk in small waxy containers followed by dozy, whispery and giggly "nap"time on my unfurled green and gold sectioned mat.
The year rolled on in a happy, contented way - filled with newly-sharpened pencils, friends and extra-special times when my Mom was Room Mother.
When the school year ended, I already knew I was moving away that summer to Pennsylvania; and I knew that I was also moving away from the special time that remains forever special.
"I love you!!! Will you marry me?"
"Yes! Yes!!" I yelled - --left in a cloud of belching diesel fumes and Robby waving and throwing me a kiss.
Looking back, kindergarten was my favoritest, most special time of all.