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Sad Eyes

He was quiet but the look he gave me made me feel like I had done something so terrible I should live the rest of my life ashamed.  I would have taken the crying fit over that look, of eyes rimmed in tears and just hoping I wasn’t dropping him off again. 

I tried something new.  I let him walk, with his blue  blanket clutched around him, from the check in through the door to the hallway.  He was timid and it took a minute or so of coaxing just to see a few steps.  As I got into his classroom, he backed up against the door he had just come through.  I moved my hands and called his name.  Quietly and unsure, he stopped at the doorway and understood. 

God, it broke my heart.  Picking him up to get him in the classroom his cries were raw like the tears.  He’s been reverting to not going down easy and his hoarseness made it all the more unbearable. 

If we could change it B we would.  It may be that he’s getting older and understanding. It may be the onset of separation anxiety.  The only certainty I know is that he’s sad when I go. I know he’ll forget it soon as I pull the car away and he has a day full of friends and activities.  It’s too bad I won’t forget it as easily.

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