counting backward
February 15, 2014 § 4 Comments
Twelve days; lost hours misplaced in the busyness of everyday life. Counting backward to the beginning of the month, there are pieces of our story missing; beautiful fragments scattered in the silence.
This month my husband and I gathered around a now familiar space with teachers and support staff to begin one of two meetings in anticipation of our son’s transition to high school. Each of these meetings carries an awareness that we are planning for an unknown, anticipating need alongside the expectation of growth; weighing academic ability and emotional well-being in an effort to provide a safe place for our son to develop alongside his peers at his own pace in recognition of needs that sometimes undermine others’ assumptions.
The days leading up to these meetings are burdened with doubt, we tally our worries as we draft and edit statements designed to create a balanced image of our son between the formal language of measurable goals. Even among familiar educators and support staff who share our experiences with kindness and compassion, there is a responsibility to invite cause for discomfort in our expectations least we become complacent in our commitments.
Above all, there is an emotional experience beneath the formality of this process; borrowed worries and stolen rest. This year, in an effort to acknowledge our family’s needs outside this process, I determinedly mapped the days surrounding our meeting with small intentional exercises in stillness; grounding my spirit in those relationships that lend clarity. I scheduled time with friends to better look outside the wall of worries that clouded my perspective; I indulged in time alone with my husband to center our shared perspective in joy; I blocked off outside interruptions from my daughter’s bedtime routine to balance time invested in our son’s future with our daughter’s present; I met myself in meditation letting my thoughts chase one another while I slipped inside the solitude of inner peace.
Each day I wondered what piece of this process I might hold tightly among my thoughts in written word. Do I share the formal decisions that we crafted so carefully in our son’s initial meeting or am I better served outlining the wisdom I uncovered in the days before and after said meeting? My efforts to retrace each step and capture the whole of those days feels impossible; like a child transporting water in carefully clasped hands, the sum is lost slowly over time.
In the end, as I ruminate on these twelve days, I am most drawn to the awareness that as my children grow in anticipation of their independence, I am turning a more conscious eye inward and reaching outward.
scribblechic 
In the midst of the same. With a son who has his own compass, albeit a bit misguided at the moment. A lesson in acceptance for me. And strength. And unconditional love.
It is a road less traveled, one with exceptional moments of awe and bewildering uncertainty. I wish you much luck as you find your way, together.
My prayers are with you during this trying process.
As I mentioned before, our similar meeting (still elementary school though) will be in a few weeks. One of the most challenging parts is working with new people each time–questioning if they are as invested in our child as we are. This year the answer was “yes.” Last year, the response for some by action was “sort of.”
Hang in there and I like your total preparation.
Community, creating that intimate dialogue among strangers, is absolutely the key to a successful partnership. I’ll be thinking of you and your family as we navigate new introductions with old hopes.