i entered this school year with enthusiasm, sweaty feet, and a whole lot of love.
as it would happen, i leave this school year the very same way. perhaps with a little more room in my heart. when i think about these kids, these amazingly brilliant kids, i can't help but feel lucky. lucky to have met them. lucky to have known them. lucky to have loved them. i can't express what their presence in my life has meant to me. as someone who is social by nature and a bit of a home body in spirit this small town country life could have completely isolated me. i'm away from all my family, friends, and peers. i come home to a dog (who thinks she's a human) and i cook for one most of the time. but these kids. these tiny humans. these kids were my family. they loved me, fought with me, cried with me, and held me when i needed it. they offered me wisdom like my father. made me laugh like my sisters. and held my hand tightly when it was most meaningful, like my mom. my "classroom family" became my "real family." even if it was only for a short period of time. and so i'm left at the end of this school year wondering how in the world i'm supposed to say goodbye to these little people who have had such a profound impact on my life. they were there on the days when i felt i could do anything. they were there on the days when nothing short of my outfit was going right. they were there on the days when i needed a hug. they were there on the days when i needed someone to believe in me. and they never stopped loving me. not once. how great a love is the love of a child? so innocent. so unencumbered. so true. i truly believe that if more people loved each other the way my kids love each other our world would be a better place. and because of their great love i felt it was my responsibility to show them an act of great love. i chose to write to them. one of the things i'm most proud of instilling in my kids is good penmanship. not simply writing the letters but making stories out of them. using words for good in a world that so often uses them for hate. i wrote 206 letters this week. one for each child after every grade leading up to his/her high school graduation. i don't want them to ever forget what their friendships have meant to me. when they're in middle school and weird shit is happening to their bodies and voices, i want them to remember my love. when they're in high school feeling like the whole world is too big, i want them to remember my love. when they're deciding what their next move should be and doubting everything there is to doubt, i want them to remember my love. and most of all, when they are reading a good book, writing a letter, or learning something new that makes them go, "wow!" i want them to remember my love. i believe in great love. my kids taught me that. and i believe that if great love is received, it will in turn, be given. thank you, nuggets. for your great love. xo, miss d
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i remember my mom reading to me as a child like it was happening only yesterday.
i remember the way we lounged. the way her breathing fell in synch with mine. and the way she always did the best voices. my mom and i are suckers for good books. especially when they involve penguins in hawaiian shirts who dance to their own kind of music. i remember first grade. there was a time when one of your parents could come in and read to the class. my mom read "tacky the penguin" and i acted it out. bowl cut and all i was as silly as silly can be. and i'll never forget the way my friends and teacher marveled at my mom's story-telling skills. it was one of the first times i remember thinking: that's my mom. she's mine. i'm hers. i'm so lucky. i grew older and i realized the differences between my mom and i. for a while i told myself that our differences should in some way separate us. i allowed what made us different to make me forget what made us alike. then i grew up a little more. and i realized how much i cherish my mom. how much i rely on her. how proud i am to be her daughter. she is so brilliant. she is the first person i want to share good news with and the first person i fall on when the weight of life crushes me. i will never be able to truly appreciate her sacrifices. no child ever really can. that's why we call our moms. send them love letters. we remind them of our love for them whenever we remember their love for us. and i am ever so fortunate to be a child who is reminded she is loved. "hey, kid," she says when she answers the phone. "hey, mom" thanks for loving me when i forget how to love myself. thanks for seeing a purpose in me that sometimes i can't see myself. thanks for sharing your wisdom, grace, and beauty with me. but most of all, thanks for appreciating good books. out of all the stories we've read together, yours and mine is my favorite. i love you, mom. and a million hugs to every kind of mom out there this mother's day. xo |
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