Returning

I was about to say that the Canadian Geese were back, but I guess maybe I should just say that we are back.  The Geese remain in the same rhythm they have always been in since we first saw them in the field of the Middle School when we moved here in 2011.  Then we noted the late arrivals of a small group, not so completely different from our own small group, battered and ill, but staunchly sticking together.  Since then the little family has grown, but we have not.  We have only aged.  I want to think we might be getting wiser, but somehow I think we are still muddling along as best we can for as long as we can. 

Our ragtag little group is back and a wee bit stronger in some areas and much weaker in others.  I am the weak link this time.  I am the one trying to figure out how to piece together the last year into some semblance of order that will result in an outcome that is positive and inspiring.  I am the one trying to make heads and tails of how to show that the magnificence of where we were will somehow be outshone by where we are now.  I am failing.  Yesterday, Eric took our ten year old back to San Diego to take part in a field trip that her class had prepared for and had been planned to happen before we moved, but was canceled and moved to yesterday.  We didn’t have the heart to say No to it.  Say No to the kids that are missing her, the teacher that knows the world is a better place because she is going to be in it, the Principal that sees her potential and asked the Superintendent if she could come along.  And we knew all those people were nothing in comparison to saying No to our girl.  As she bravely smiles and walks into a new school that is excellent but so big they lack the feeling of family, and sits through the lessons from a teacher that knows everything to the point that she has no need for input from a previous teacher…she bravely sets aside the loss of her best friends…the ones that were finally THE best friends…I couldn’t tell her No to this day, this return.  And her classmates didn’t disappoint.  They mobbed her upon sight, and when told to sit for instructions, they made a circle around her.  My little nucleus.  She responded in her usual fashion, bright like the sun, embracing the moment as only she can.  Holding it in her heart and head as she settled back into the reality of this being home with school today being with the new faces that she has grown to know, the new school that lacks heart, but is not really a bad place; doing all that, without a word, merely an hour in her room buried in the adventures of a book that takes her away from all this for just a little while. 

Maybe she is not so affected by all this, perhaps I have been the one most affected.  Perhaps I am projecting my concerns and hurt for her onto her and she is great.  But there was the hour alone. There was the texting before school this morning, me asking if she was talking to her friends in San Diego, do they miss you?  And in her soft smile, that telling look in her eyes, I know I have projected nothing and that perhaps she is projecting on me.  After that one look, I knelt beside her and told her that I knew that yesterday was wonderful being back with her friends, like going home, and I know that going to school and being here now cannot replace that feeling – but if I could have my way… life would have worked out and things would be different and I would give her back all that if I could.  But I can’t fix this, I can’t change what is and I can’t make this okay for her.  All I can do is stay here beside her, helping her walk this path as best I can, and hope that with time, things that are, things here…will make it okay for her.

It’s only been five weeks, and I as I preach patience to the kids, so must I listen to myself and give this time.  Moving back here was the right thing to do, for so many reasons that have nothing to do with the kids at school.  For school alone, being there was the best thing for them.  But that was the only best thing.  Their Pediatrician was retiring and their ENT was leaving the Navy.  For Bradley alone, these were dire consequences that would leave a real area of concern and worry as we navigated a whole new world of medical help. 

It was a move we needed to make, and so just like the geese, we are a little battered but we’ve stuck together and headed north. My oldest spends her days going to the Middle School attached to the field that these geese, our geese, spend their days.  Knowing that life is meant to come full circle, that the truly important aspects that are supposed to happen and where they are meant to happen…are going to come around and place you where you are meant to be…that is a measure of Faith that we are supposed to have in place.  And we are supposed to believe in our Faith, but sometimes, when the child you love gives you THAT look, and it hits you in the heart, holding onto that Faith can be difficult.  I have to believe that there will be better things for these kids and that with all that looks grim today, we will see the light glow around the grim until the light is all that remains.