I used to send a note with my son's lunch every day. I've kept almost all of them because they tell his story.
- I wrote a note to go with my son's lunch every day from Kindergarten to fifth grade.
- I even wrote him a note every day during the pandemic to keep a semblance of normalcy.
My son's elementary school career is a story told in large part via scraps of paper in Ziploc bags.
Tucked away in a kitchen drawer, those sandwich bags hold nearly every lunch note I've ever written to Daniel, from kindergarten through fifth grade. A different bag for each grade, together they weave a story as powerfully as any photo album.
I don't journal, but I do write lunch notes, and those notes have given me a wonderful, often visceral, record of five and a half important years.
They range from silly to documenting our lives during the pandemic
They're written on scraps of printer paper I cut to size, on yellow Post-It's, on colored or paw print-shaped paper, and once on a napkin. In kindergarten, they were undated; then, I realized I was going to keep them and started adding dates.
They range from silly, little-boy notes — "I love you, Danielosaurus!" — to an unexpected diary of the pandemic, which started when Daniel was in third grade.
The notes remind me of details a photo album might never capture: the books we read, the made-up games we played, and the weird weather events.
"1-31-18: Daniel, Tonight is the super blue blood moon! I hope we can see it! Have a great day."
They remind me about the drumbeat of repetition it takes to instill a growth mindset and teach him the importance of focus, perseverance, and curiosity.
"Kindergarten: You did a great job working hard at swimming lessons last night! I'm so proud of you for keeping at it even when it's hard to do."
"3-19-20: This is our second day of homeschooling! What a surprise this has been. I'm so proud of how you've used your flexible brain during this. You are amazing!"
"1-6-22: You ask really good questions. Today I'm going to find out where squirrels spend the winter, and I will let you know!"
I packed his lunch during the pandemic so things would feel more normal, and there were notes there too
At the beginning of the pandemic, we kept up a semblance of normalcy via the lunch box. I'd pack Daniel's lunch and write a note, sometimes finding it sitting beside his work on the kitchen table.
"3-20-2020: Daniel, I really, really loved watching All-School Morning Meeting with you today on the computer. How awesome to see all of those teachers—and how funny to see them at home! You are doing an amazing job with all our changes."
The notes mention his role as a ring-bearer (kindergarten) and a trip to DC to be a junior groomsman (third grade). The day he got the COVID vaccine (11-12-21). There are references lost to my memory, like the mention of pee soap (1-18-19) or powerful burp day (kindergarten).
I'm reminded of days gone by — the references to dance parties and Saturday snuggles, of a time not so long ago when I signed the notes "Mommy" before transitioning to "Mom." And well before he called me "bruh."
The notes were spotty in fourth grade when distance learning wore on and then became hybrid learning. They picked up again in fifth grade. By that spring, I hadn't been to Daniel's classroom in two years, a dramatic change from pre-pandemic times when I volunteered weekly. Finally, I got to return for an outdoor cleanup day.
And then, the last note of elementary school. A reminder that he is growing up.
"6-15-22: Daniel, It's the last day of school! The last day of 5th grade! The last day of elementary school! I'm so proud of you. You've worked so hard and learned so much, and you've come so far. I'm the luckiest Mom in the world to get to watch you grow."