September is gone and I gratefully welcome the shift into Autumn. October is such a beautiful month, rippled with saturations of orange, red, yellow and brown. These are the colors I adore, the colors of earth, wood, and leaf, the colors that support the last days of brilliant cycles that serve to only begin new ones. Nature never goes quietly, does it? Not to those who pay attention…
Life in the day to day has been stressful. Adjusting to new schedules, splitting myself between to two schools, and giving myself wholly to the Volunteer mom credo, which is “offer time, give time, spend time, repeat”, has left few moments to write or create as I once did when the children were younger. And the longer I am out there offering support, the more I see how much it’s desperately needed. Our community, our families, and our schools most certainly need it. The longer I am out there, the more I yearn for that village which relies upon each of its members to see a bigger picture. We are not the lone drivers of our lives, we do need each other more than ever and I see that now. We are not one family, we are one family in a collective and I am grateful to those I’ve met who see it the same way. I would not survive this school year were it not for those who see this same way.
My husband and I learned something in late August, something that has me thinking differently about the assumed futures we (sub)consciously impose upon ourselves and our children. My little Bee has been tested to have a learning disability. And while I can be grateful that she has just as many, if not more, powerful strengths than weaknesses, I can only blame human nature for wanting to mete out those blackened seeds with my imaginary Mom powers. Life is difficult enough without the bruises we carry and the heartbreaks that wait, and I wish with all my earthly might I could save her from all the pain that has yet to unfold. My heart breaks, dammit, it breaks.
There is little room for pity, no time for sadness, and the future for this child remains clear, bright and undiscovered as it always has been. Meanwhile I will work hard for her as I always have to help her find her path, her hope, and her destiny as it simply waits for us to catch up. And she will tell me stories of the dragon and the fox, the fairies and the woods, and I will know that somehow these creatures and her brilliant imagination will help her find her way, I just know it will.
I am happy to see you go September. Take with you the restless heart and the fearful mind. Take with you the bitter bites of sadness and perimenopause! Leave the joy received from giving, from sharing, from friendships and family, and let it feed the warming embers that begin October. I am ready. We are all ready…
much love to you