I was one of those upset kindergarteners.

Every class had one.

The kind that fell apart the moment mom was out of sight.

Crying hot tears until they could barely see.

Led inside by the teacher to distract.

A subject change the only fix for a breakdown.

***

Kindergarten was inside a fenced area with a double door gate.

A zone to keep children from wandering off.

But a very final threshold.

Place where the heart dropped.

Left alone to the designs of a stranger.

Locked up and abandoned.

***

Sometimes I would watch the car pull out and away.

Down that road and around the corner.

Farther than my eyes could track.

It was always worse when I did that.

Feeling like the distance was increasing.

It did not matter that my house was just down the road.

***

I had never been abandoned.

There was no precedent or pattern I had learned from.

Just the feeling of being apart.

Away from a loved one I missed dearly.

Not being where I felt like I should be.

With the love I could count on.

***

It was only when I stopped watching the car that I got better.

Facing forward with less tears.

Open to my new belonging.

Passing those two gates with less anxiety.

That the finality lessened.

That I stopped feeling abandoned.

***

Sometimes I still feel that sinking feeling.

I have never been good with goodbyes.

When that door slams closed and pulls away down the road.

But I remember that time that I passed under those arched gates.

That the distance could be as close as just down the road.

That I have not been abandoned.