Some days I can hold my heart in my hands like a folded sparrow and some days I feel the trembling old scars of lines gone rough with overuse. Everything is still vacillating. Everything is still in flux. That is a blessing and a curse. Some moments that feels freeing, some moments that feels incredibly frustrating. I think I’m learning to live inside of that patience. To cultivate it. It is difficult though. When sometimes all I want is the clarity of a simple answer. Living with the unknown, that is certain. That is given. But living in constant flux, that is wearing. And enticing at the same time. At this moment though, it is wearing.
And all of the colors and all of the adjectives and all of the patterns of brain rain run me back to home to the place of here and now. There and then. We and me. This and that. And always everywhere all at once.
Yesterday I had my last day as First Grade assistant. I walked to my car, my arms bumbling full of bags of gifts and treats and things to take away and I felt so fulfilled. So wretchedly full. I thought of that first day in September, hot, sticky and sleep deprived. I thought of their faces, the full circle. How much they’ve grown already. How much I learned. How deeply I sunk my feet into my mud of the school. How entrenched I am now. How in love I am now. I didn’t want to leave. Of course, now I am relishing the free time. The air, the endless night, the freedom of motion, the time with Jamie. But I am grateful. Beyond grateful. I took them outside for recess one last time and I tried to hold on to them in my mind. Etch the lines of their full, round, joyous faces into my mind. Close my eyes and hear their tiny, jangling voices shouting at one another. Imprint their laughter on the back of my eyelids. These 6 year old selves. For now they are gone to me, and I will watch them grow through the years…and I will see them…but never like this, never again. These little 6 year old selves encapsulated in time. On a biting winter day…racing around the dead grass in their gloves and hats. Jumping into a hole they dug in the ground. Just because. Just to feel the fall. Just to feel the dirt spray up at them. Just to laugh. Pummeling each other to the ground just to feel the collapse. Just joy and innocence and that naiveté that life will protect them, will keep them safe. Something precious and passing. Moments frozen in winter light.