no return
The reasons for sadness keep rolling in like waves. Today, the official word that kids would not return to school to finish their year. We…
The reasons for sadness keep rolling in like waves. Today, the official word that kids would not return to school to finish their year. We knew this was coming. I had some time to steel myself to it, but it still stung. Cold water hitting my face after finding out that cold water was likely going to be thrown in my face at some point in the near future. I think of my kids, their hard-working, loving first grade teachers. I think of their vibrant school with our new principal whose lost her lifelong partner to this virus. I think of the middle schoolers I teach, their last months as 8th graders now lost, just before sailing off to high school and the unknown. It’s inside everyone, the sadness, the loss. A slow ticker of bad news. Deep breath.
Ok.
I think of September. I think about fear. About gut reaction, about spatial relationships and human touch. About never shaking hands again (that’s fine). About not hugging (not ok with that at all never going to be ok with that). How long? Until when? Trying to explain to 6 year olds that this is the first time any of us has experienced something like this isn’t easy. But I try. And I try to remind myself at the same time, as I say the words. This is the first time any of us has ever experienced something like this in our whole lives.
Ok.
I will try to be gentle with myself. I will try to day by day, wave by wave, this thing. I will trust that something will be waiting for us on the other side. But when I look at the calendar on my wall, the one we got for free with our order from our favorite Chinese restaurant this January, I hate it.