Life Goes On
by Patricia Darak
“Mommy?”
“Hmm . . . ?”
“Mommy? Mommy? Wake up, Mommy. I had a bad dream.”
“Mmm . . . okay. Here, snuggle up with me under the covers.”
“Okay.”
Twenty seconds went by. Then, in the stillness of the darkened bedroom, his small voice whispered dramatically.
“I love you, Mommy.”
“I love you too, honey.”
I gave him a small kiss on the top of his head, then snuggled him closer and tucked a little more of the blanket around him.
Almost immediately, we fell back asleep, our breathing becoming regular and deep, and both secure in the knowledge that ‘Mommy’s here.’
In the morning, my son had no memory of the bad dream – which was good, I suppose – or how he managed to wake up in a bedroom down the hall from where I had put him to sleep the previous night.
(But, that’s okay with me. Truth be told, it’s more than okay. Being able to provide comfort to my young son’s tender heart brings me a deep joy and peace. I am so very blessed that I’m here and able to love him.)
A few hours later, after his younger sister woke up and they had both finished breakfast, they were washed, dressed, and ready for school.
Driving along, I slowly became aware of a deep discussion transpiring between the two booster-seated children in the back. Apparently, there was a question about the difference between a ghost and a soul. My little girl wasn’t sure, but she thought that they were different things. But, my son, using his patient teacher voice, was informing her that, in fact, ghosts and souls were the same thing, “. . . because they’re both white and they both float.”
His sister replied, “Oh. Okay.”
I then asked my son if he was sure about his assertion.
“Yes, Mommy.”
“How do you know?” (I admit, I was rather curious.)
“Because my big sister told me.”
Hmm. So, evidently my children had been having some deep philosophical discussions betwixt themselves. I replied with a profound, “Oh, really? Okay.” And we drove on.
Arriving at the school, we disembarked and made our way into the building; my son held open the door. As my daughter and I walked through the open doorway, my son remarked, “Ladies first.” Before I could thank him, he zoomed ahead while laughing and proclaiming that he was, in fact, the winner.
After checking my daughter into her preschool classroom, kissing her goodbye, and giving her a ‘queen’s wave,’ it was time to drop off my son. Instead of the dignified ‘royal’ dismissal I received from his sister, my son gave me a bear hug and demanded that I stay with him until he had finished checking himself in. Then, after his teachers had been greeted, his folder turned in, and his hands washed, he gave me another big hug and sent me off with a solemn promise to see me after school.
Leaving his classroom, I walked back down the hall toward the lobby, stopping briefly to peek into my youngest daughter’s classroom. She was in the middle of a toy negotiation with her best friend, both of them giggling. Smiling, I continued on down the hallway.
Before I left, I stopped at the lunchroom door to wave at my oldest daughter. She turned toward me, waved, and then came over to hug me. I asked if she was having a good day. She said that she was, and that she would see me after school. “Okay,” I said. Smiling, she went back to her lunch table and resumed eating.
Now I had about two-and-a-half hours to get my various errands finished. “Let’s see,” I thought, getting out my to-do list. Quickly figuring out which end of town that I would be heading toward first, I buckled my seat belt and started my vehicle. I briefly closed my eyes, breathed deeply for a minute, and gave thanks for our calm life.
Two hours and twenty minutes later, I was parked in front of the school, and used the five spare minutes to check my phone for text messages and e-mails. Satisfied that nothing Earth-shattering was imminent, I headed into the school to pick up my educated angels. I had just enough time to get a drink from the water fountain before my oldest daughter’s class arrived. Giving her a hug, we headed down the hallway to collect her younger siblings. Then, after signing them out and saying their goodbyes to their friends and teachers, they were ready to go home and have a snack.
Our journey over, we settled in at home, finishing our snacks and chattering about our day. Thinking ahead to tomorrow morning when, more or less, we get to do it all over again, I gave a small sigh and smiled. The family is together, their father is on his way home from work, and life goes on.
————————————————————————————————————————–
Just a brief note to recognize one of the best teachers I (and my children) have ever known. My son’s pre-kindergarten teacher, Mrs. Judy Blomquist, is retiring at the end of this school year after 30 years of teaching. We will all miss her, and we are all so grateful for her kindness, her generosity, her gracious spirit, and her immeasurable patience and love. She made learning fun and exciting, and encouraged her students to respect themselves and each other. Thank you, Mrs. Blomquist, and may you have a lovely retirement. You deserve the best.
