Tuesday, March 7, 2017

reading books I love, putting away dishes, and learning through tears

I forget, sometimes, that I really like chocolate.  I know that sounds odd and potentially arbitrary.  But it's true.  I also forget other things...bigger things...if you can get bigger than chocolate.

We are approaching 4 years.  You'd think that the knock-you-on-your-ass tears were pretty much done.  And by "you'd" I mean "I'd".  But then, once again, I'd be wrong.

They ended pretty abruptly today though.  Almost as quickly as they began.  Beginnings come from odd and somewhat pointless places.  I was putting dishes away.  I just watched the last (latest) (on Netfix) Supernatural and I was sad because I miss being friends with my brother.  And as I was putting dishes away, it occurred to me that I wasn't supposed to do that ALONE every damn time.So this time, it began with small, square dishes.  Most of those damn dishes I bought with John.  He was supposed to wash when I cooked.  That was always the deal.  But now, well, there isn't a deal.  I just do what I can, when I can, so sometimes it sits.  But the small, square dishes with the orange and blue and yellow stripes made me cry.  Because I can touch them and remember dozens and dozens of meals we've had on them.  Without him.  And he was supposed to BE there.

I stopped crying midstream, though.  Because I realized that those tears existed because he tamed me.  I was Real to him and he was Real to me.  And what a gorgeous damn gift it was that we each took the time to break through for each other.  There is NO better gift.  And also, I realized, I have a community of folks that care about me.  I have a chance, every day, to walk into a job where small humans look to me for hope, curiosity, support, encouragement, and love.  Love.  We don't often have access to that in our work lives.  But I do.  I keep hoping to find friendship there, at work, with adults.  It doesn't really happen.  And I find my worst anxiety triggers stepped on almost all the time.  But still...I get to go to work, and share love.  I get to comfort little ones when they cry, even if I don't understand why.  Even when I DO understand why and cannot do a damn thing.  I can be present for them.

And yes, I want the chance to tame and be tamed again.  More than anything.  And that makes tears stream like a stuck drinking fountain.  I think I am done and I walk away and realize, um, yeah, nope.  Left that one open and it's still going.  Heh.  Oops.

And that's okay.  It's good to want that.  I think.  I believe it is...and what I KNOW is that I may not always do the best with my plan book, but I walk in my classroom every day fighting for the chance to love, cheer for, believe in, help, redirect, and listen as much as possible to as many humans as I can.  And when I come home, I do it again, at defcon level 10 for my babies.  Whatever the situation.  And that, that is a blessing.  Even if I do end up on the floor, caressing a photograph with a sparkling smile from long ago...a guy in a blue t-shirt with a monkey on his shoulder and smile lines like sunshine parenthesis, crying so hard I have to bite on a paper towel to dim the sounds and allow the kids to sleep.

I guess if I had a choice, and the choice couldn't include him, I'd choose to bring on the tears.  Because every moment with him made me a better person.  In so many ways.

And also for them