The Pencil Case Zipped Shut and I Felt the Day Being Packed Away

Dear Delyara, My child had left it open on the table again — pencils rolling, rubber missing, ruler under the chair, one sharpener cap nowhere to be seen. I gathered the pieces back together and zipped it closed, and for some reason that tiny action made me feel unexpectedly tender. Maybe because it was the end of the day. Maybe because school things hold so much more than stationery. They hold effort, embarrassment, hope, boredom, pressure, and all the parts of childhood I can’t fully protect my children from even while I still pack their bags and smooth their collars. The pencil case clicked shut, and I felt that familiar ache of parenting older children. I can organise the objects. I cannot organise what happens to their hearts once they leave the house. I put it by the door and felt proud, protective, and helpless in equal measure.