The first homework Tuesday. It was bumpy. Reentry is sometimes turbulent.
Got up, did laundry, had a good breakfast, I know I worked on something solidly, but it was so long ago--morning--that I don't remember. I know I prayed. I know got a cabinet organized. I know I got the table cleared and wiped off and Erin's stuff all laid out and highlighted.
Lanie and I worked together on her things, and it was really nice. She has always been so independent, that it was really awesome to work with her in this new way. A day with hugs and love you's.
Monday she asked if we could all hold hands at the table and say a prayer before meals like Lisa's family does. So we did that day on Monday for lunch, and I cried. I cried for a lot of reasons: my family apart, this wonderful influence on Lanie, emotional exhaustion from stressors.
"It's not the same without Erin. I miss her," Lanie said.
I crashed hard that night.
Yesterday seemed like the longest homework day with a third grader transitioning to a very different workload.
The pool was closed.
Crickets replaced the sound of summer splashes.
By four, I felt an exhaustion calling me to surrender.
Soon I'll be stacking wood. And as if by queue, the wood stove emits the faintest hint of last winter's woodsmoke smell--reminding me a new season is near.
Lanie is going to be thirteen this year. I love the opportunities of her being home. I'm thankful for the doors that immediately opened for us just before the school year started. We talked about the open doors, how if we just enter in, there's a whole new realm of possibilities for her--new friendships and experiences.
[I can't help but think of the move. If I had stayed, I know what it would have been. Leaving meant new possibilities, and a whole new set of experiences. So while I miss a kitchen and the memories we made in that home, how cool was it that there was this whole realm just waiting for us to step into it.
I think it's the same this year.]
"Think of all the new people you're meeting," I said. And even the subtle example of Lisa's home on her in just one day--Lanie said that's how they pray before meals on The Waltons too. And she wanted us to do that.
"I felt so sad," I told Shane about Erin's first day. Schedule splintered. Family splintered.
"I feel so bad!" Erin had said before bed--I packed her lunch so special for her, and the cookies in the bag with the sticker to seal. I wanted to see her expression, but an earlier class let kids reach into lunches for a snack, and I missed it.
"It's ok!" I said. "I wanted you to enjoy it and you did!"
This season--new to our family. Some parts of it, however, are like the hint of woodsmoke, reminding me of a former winter.