Memory

Our phone conversation was progressing normally last night. We chatted about health matters, hers and mine. We talked about the grandkids promotion ceremony in Hutchinson. Watching the young girls looking more and more like young women and the boys obviously lagging behind. We both laughed knowing the time will come when those same boys will so suddenly grow (overnight) into young men.
Then, in the middle of our conversation, she said "I went to the cemetary. I wanted to place flowers on your dad's grave but couldn't find it." She went down all the paths, nothing was familiar.
I found myself holding my breath as she described what had happened.
She couldn't find his grave.
The man she had loved for 23 years.
The memory of his grave was clouded. Sometimes she can find it, but today was not this time. I could hear the tears and frustration in her voice.
I asked if she would like me to take her after I got off work. We could both lay flowers. She for dad, me for my parents.
That would be nice.

I have thought about this overnight.
The memory of his grave slipping out of mind is a good thing. What she remembers is the man she loved so dearly and misses still.
What I remember is being loved so unconditionally and still am.
I will keep the memory of where his grave is and take on those days when she does not remember. It is ok. Her memories are the best ones.

Helicoptering

A teacher at school has a name for parents that oversee every detail of their child's life. We get the warning of "Blackhawk Down!" when certain parents are on premises.
The rest of us start thinking of anything the particular parent could possibly want. No detail is too small.
This week has been full of such parents. It is the last full week of school. Seniors had their last day and the biggest event of all...
The spirit squad list for next year was posted.
The people involved in tallying up the totals scores for the individuals trying out spent a great deal of time adding and readding and wanting to make sure there were absolutely no mistakes. Finally, the list was done and posted.
Calls are anticipated.
Are the scores truly right?
How could the other girls have qualified?
Are we sure?

The girls are ok, or at least will be after the initial sting of not making the squad passes. The mothers?
Well that is another matter.

Should I be worried?

I am sitting in our front room. It is evening, the skies are cloudy and rain is coming our way. I have turned off the lights in the upper part of the house (a friend is encouraging all to turn off at least one unnecessary lights - decrease our dependence on fossil fuel - a very good thing).
Our daughter is texting away in the darkness. George is downstairs and our son is taking a bath.
Baths have become somewhat important in our 15 year old son's life. The bathroom provides wallowing in warm water and a place to have a really good conversation with himself.
I am not making fun of him. Really.
Sam just goes in, runs the water and pretty soon we hear talking. No one gets close enough to the door to make out what he is saying. That would be too much an invasion of privacy.
But there is definitely a convo going on.
I have to smile. It seems to be beneficial and more importantly, none of our business.
I love that boy.

Schedules

We sat here on Saturday evening talking about schedules for the rest of the month. I have to somewhere Monday, KPN has something every night, George has a meeting later in the week, potluck at church Wednesday evening. The biggie coming up is graduation, graduation, graduation.
This was really the last weekend with nothing major going on. Then all hell breaks loose.
I guess what I am getting at is we need to slow down. Looking at all the meetings and the need to schedule down time makes me realize there is too much.
But what do we cut? Any suggestions?

In Praise of Small Schools

This evening we went to watch our kids be recognized for their achievements of the past year and to hear their plans for the coming year. Fi going to college and Sam being recognized for academic achievement and for doing so well in Debate, Forensics, Band and Choir.
This type of ceremony takes place on a larger scale, certainly. What we saw tonight though, does not. All the seniors are recognized.
Kids in non-sport activities are recognized for doing well.
As parents we get the chance to beam when our children are named.
Small schools are important. They need to be upheld. The schools need to be funded. Parents and communities need them.
But enough about that. What I really want to say is that I love my kids. At all levels. Even when one acts like a pretty princess or one acts like a troll.
I love them.

Graduation

My daughter Fiona has 6 1/2 days til she is finished with high school. She is ready. She is also fearful. There are so many things to consider and to choose. Fi knows the first steps are the scariest. They are for anyone.
I have watched her become more sure of herself though. There is a confidence that has not been there before.
Fiona will stumble from time to time. I know she will do well though.
It has taken a bit for me to get here to say these things. I still look at my daughter and feel she should not be at this point. Ready to graduate. My heart believes her to be the little girl standing with her very bestest friend at the door, drenched in mud. Smiling at having rolled in a huge mud puddle of their making.
Who really is graduating?

Not knowing

A week ago I was in the hospital. Not my favorite of places to be. Can't imagine it would be for anyone.
I was sick and we assumed we knew what was going on. After lots of tests, we found we were right.
So now, on the back side of being sick, I still face tests and doctors. I still face not knowing. Let me say that categorically, I don't like that fact.