Monday, June 09, 2014
< One Week
Armageddon is almost upon us.
I've got news for you, it's already here.
I'm not dumb. I know moving is chaotic (in high school I pronounced this chow-tic when read out loud until someone corrected me and I was like what? because I think it should be spelled kaotic) but I still like some degree of organization. So as we started taking things off the wall, including the hanging bed, I kept trying to keep everything tidy and orderly. But Saturday was the day we opened the floodgates of moving hell and I just gave in. We're super lucky because the military is moving us one last time--I know, I know!--so really it's not even that bad. In fact since they come to pack us up today we've had very little evidence around that we're moving at all. I've been able to live in this little bubble of denial and pretend like no major life changes are coming our way.
But it's time. Less than one week. And I want to cry... which I have done a few times.
Speaking of crying... I've got a sweet little story for you. Last Thursday was the last day of school for PSP. I'm lucky that she's had such great teachers. I know she really loved her teacher, but I didn't realize how much until Friday morning she asked me if we could go back to school to see her teacher one more time. I was confused.
You just saw her yesterday. She just looked at me.
What do you want to do at school?
Math worksheets. She said. And she was serious.
Honey, no...we're not going to go to school to do math worksheets. School's out.
She asked a few more times to go back. She said she missed her teacher and she wanted to say goodbye one more time.
This was not a convenient request. Packing all three kids up--which would require getting all 4 of us dressed since clearly the first day of summer break could also be translated to I ain't got to get anyone dressed day. Including myself. But she was insistent and more than that. Distraught. At one point collapsing on her bed with her head in her hands. When I called B he told me she had been in tears--giant sobbing tears--the night before while I was out and he had suggested she ask me if I could take her back one last time.
So I called the school and found out this was the last day we would be able to see her before we left. I could see that this meant a lot to her, so I gave in. Grouchily, but I gave in.
As we walked out the door PSP carried a little note in her hand and had a hard time waiting for us slowpokes who were content to walk and not sprint to the school.
We got there and she gave her teacher a hug. We all made small talk for a few minutes. Then PSP handed her teacher the note. Her teacher hugged her and said, "I love you too... my little monkey." Her little nickname for PSP. I took a couple pictures of them together and that was that. (pic above)
As we left and I could tell she was more settled, no longer antsy or anxious. She had come with a purpose and had said what she needed to say.
I felt a little pang in my heart realizing how heavily this had weighed on hers. I too have had that awful feeling of knowing I'm about to be separated from someone I love accompanied with the desperate need to tell them that I love them and that I will miss them. Whether it was unrequited young love or the last time I knew I was going to see my grandpa alive. Closure or whatever you want to call it... my little girl had experienced it. And handled it beautifully. She demonstrated to me once again that some feelings, no matter how complex, have no age limit. I'm just glad I wasn't too stupid to keep her from experiencing this important moment. Because sometimes us adults really are stupid and we often forget what really matters in life. Kids are much better at that stuff.
Speaking of good-byes I'm hoping to write a little farewell to San Antonio sometime soon.
Gonna miss this place.