Thursday, August 17, 2006

how lucky are we?!?

We just get to have fun together all day.

Knowing that the end of summer--the best summer of my life-- is near has made it a rough week. For some reason, I feel like when school begins, all of this time with Maya will end.

It seems like a cruel trick. That I've created this safe and consistent, happy world for her that is only an illusion. That soon, I won't be there whenever she wakes up. And she doesn't even know it yet.

Really it will only be two days a week that she'll get to spend with her Grandmas who will spoil her and overwhelm her with love and attention.

And I love my job--it is meaningful, doesn't even feel like work most of the time. I have new textbooks for my elementary classes! Beautiful books, CD's, DVD's, computer programs, visuals...I've never had real music curriculum before! I care so deeply for 'my kids'. I have always loved seeing them every day, watching them learn and grow, finding new passions and abilities.

But my heart just isn't as available as it used to be. It is so unreservedly Maya's now.

The reality of going to work, and leaving just a few weeks is growing more tangible. And far more painful than when it was just an idea in the distant future. She still seems so little. Lately, my tears are so close to the surface. (So unlike me...actually not.)

Just two days a week....I'll still have five days with her.

It will be okay.
People do this every day.
She will be fine.
No one else could take better care of her or love her more than her Grandmas.

I am so lucky that I even have this beautiful daughter to feel so torn over.

She will be okay.

Thursday, August 10, 2006


Maya got to spend an hour with her Uncle David today. From what I hear, they had a really fun time.

I didn't.

I had to attend a funeral...alone. My parents' neighbor died this week after several difficult months of cancer attacking one organ after another. My parents are at the cabin right now. So because I grew up next door, wandered often through their extensive gardens, and played occasionally with his grandchildren, I was sent as the representative of my family. As I approached the church, I wondered what I would say... or if I needed to say anything...
The line to sign the guest book trailed out the doors. There were hundreds of people filling the pews--probably more than on most Sundays. I felt out of place, awkward without my daughter, without Ryan...or anyone. It wasn't a terrible feeling, just strange and uncomfortable. The only familiar face was the Marie, the widow.

And suddenly I realized how completely alone *she* was. How uncomfortable and awkward her new role must be.

Her fragile smile looked tired as she greeted her friends and family members. Always a hostess. They used to throw dinner parties together on their patio and in the gazebo, surrounded by carefully tended flowers, winding brick paths, a small waterfall cascading into a tiny pond filled with goldfish. They were best friends.

After the benediction, I got to go hold Maya and meet my best friend for lunch. He promised me that he'd never die.