The Downside of Reconnecting

My mom is away at a conference (I'm so jealous), so the duty of driving the boys back and forth to school was reassigned for the last couple of days. Between the rest of the adults in the family, we've been taking care of it. Yesterday I took the boys to school. I bought coffee from my former students (they run a coffee business as part of the program) and sat with them for a good long chat. I saw many parents and children, and was on the receiving end of a great many hugs. It all made me very very happy. Until I got home.

I couldn't figure out for the life of me why I was in such a crap mood yesterday. I'd had a lovely morning. I wasn't exhausted. I'd seen some of my very favourite people. But even in the sunshine, or playing games... I just couldn't shake it. When I told my therapist yesterday afternoon, she connected the dots for me. I had gotten a taste of my old life, and it revived the feelings of grief and loss.

Today I went to pick up my nephew, and it was a similar experience. I'm sad right now. I'm sad because I laughed with a parent in the parking lot, and because my students were thrilled to see me and were crawling over themselves to show me things and because I love them so much and I miss them terribly all over again.

I have written about the grief process, and I do still feel that every day I get closer to acceptance. But what I have been grieving, really, has been for the things I cannot and may never be able to do again. These last two days, I've been grieving the temporary (fingers crossed - hope hope hope) loss of my community, the school, and the huge role they have played in my life for the last 6 years. 6 years! That's a longer relationship than I've had with any other organization, work place or school in my entire life (except I think maybe USY).

The school was my place of work, yes, but it is a community. Parents, teachers, even students are checking in on me, offering their help with my son, and just generally being supportive. I've taught most of the students, and watched them grow up. I've been there, with their parents, as they went through difficult and happy times. The older parents remember when my son first got there - they all remember the tiny, capable child with huge blue eyes and golden curls.

The school was also my purpose. Imagine the opportunity to create a space of optimal learning, with people who share your vision and drive, and which will benefit not only the students you come to love, but your own child, nephews and niece. That was what this school was for me. I created a Montessori adolescent program because I believe in it, but also because I want it for my son. I was given the privilege of creating the program by people I respect immensely. I was given the trust of the parents whose children are attending. And I have to admit, I fed off the enthusiasm of the students. These gave me such fulfillment. And being there... seeing that it goes on without me... it's a bittersweet experience.

They're not gone - the trust, respect and enthusiasm. I know that. They're just on hiatus, along with the rest of my work. Being there twice after such a long absence has reminded me that there was indeed an absence. It reminded me how much there is to miss, because there was so much that was so great. I guess really I should feel grateful that it was there, and that it continues to be, and hopeful that soon I will partake once again. I'll get there. But maybe not today.