The most unexpected moment happened after drop-off at my son’s school this morning. As I was walking away from the school heading toward the subway, a mom friend walking her daughter toward school, instead of the usual nod or hello, initiated a fist bump. I paused, out of surprise, but then bumped her back and we went on our way. Indulge me as I read into this gesture.
I love its spirit of parental camaraderie. There was no occasion, just a friendly bump, as if to say: “Another day school day rises, and we’ve made sure our kids are here and on time.”
I love that she likes me enough, and is comfortable enough with me, to have the instinct to put a bump right out there, just because it feels right.
I love that she doesn’t’ even know that people aren’t fist-bumping all that much anymore—as far as I can tell.
There are close friends, and others, who you share a special place and time with, but are likely not to see as much anymore when circumstances change. We have the latter kind of friendship. Our kids were in Kindergarten or first grade together—I can’t even remember which. There was a period when she wrote for the magazine for a bit, include this inspiring essay about having cerebral palsy and being a mom.
I don’t know this for sure, but like most of parents with children in grade 5, she’s probably a little disoriented by a child who is ambivalent about how much they still want you to be a part of drop-off. At the same time, I’m sure she’s also very proud of her child’s achievements, and deeply attached to the young woman she’s becoming.
You know what I’m realizing? As my kids get older and drop-offs continue to diminish in time and fun, I’m not only going to miss these mornings with my children, I’m going to miss my bevy of parent friends, the support, the chatter, the info, the commiseration—and now, the fist bumps.
Eric Messinger is the editor of New York Family. He can be reached at [email protected].
