The past week has been anything but dull. Plenty has happened . . .but everything pales in comparison to Lyla starting school.
I was there, that day. Lyla was so excited that she hopped right in bed , the night before earlier than usual without a single complaint! The next morning, she popped out of bed, before sun up. She was so merry and I had to play along, but my stomach hurt and my eyes stung. Brynn slept through the whole thing.
The school is but five minutes from the house. Lyla chattered, and Jenny reminded Lyla to be kind, helpful and respectful . . and to wash her hands. I was stoic and said things like “Oh, there is the playground!” as if, nothing momentous was happening. She got out of the car, and I watched her growing smaller and smaller in the rear view mirror. Now, I could cry, for you all know that I am overly sentimental.
I left Elizabeth City just after lunch, for I started school, the next day myself. This year, I am working in a reading program. Books are dear to me and I love them as much as I love music. Oh, I hope to inspire the students to embrace the love of reading and to recognize fine literature.! I have been quite nervous though, for it was like starting a new job, to me. I am happy to announce now, that the first week went well and I think that I may love this new place along my journey.
Brant, Sydney and Ryan came on Friday night. We all spent the night at Mamas’. Ryan is as adorable as ever and says whatever he wants to. My boxer, Cash came too and right off, Ryan said, “That’s a big dog.” rather matter of fact like. He was delighted with “Nanas’ box of trucks, cars and tractors. Brant remembered several of them. Ryan also loved the same keyboard that Christian did, as a child. The boxer laid beside him as he played.
Once I was in the den, reading one of the books for school, and from the kitchen, I heard the lilt of the voices of my loved ones carrying on in conversation from the kitchen. How happy I felt and realised, that was something else, that I loved. On Friday evening, when stars were filling the sky, Sydney took Ryan out to see them-of course, I was quick to follow. I remembered Daddy showing me the stars and pointing out the constellations, in that very same yard. Daddy was not a good teacher at things like math, but he was wonderful when it came to trees and birds and sky. He was never impatient with those subjects. The next morning after breakfast, Brant and Sydney went to see other family. I stayed with Mama for there was a ruckus at the rabbitpatch!
I did finally and officially put the house on the market and ever since, there has been a steady flow of folks coming to see it. The house must stay perfectly clean at all times and the yard too! . . and me! . . .and the boxer! With the place at its’ best and the “sea of lavender” blooming, it is a bittersweet time. I walk around the yard and wonder how I can leave it and so I tell myself, “the barn is falling down.” I remember those sweet years that the house was full . . and I say to myself . . .”the place is empty now” I look at the stables where the little goats slept and I say . . “now you have grandchildren.” I remember all the very hard work and remind myself, that I am older now. I have less money now too and that is a factor.
I know, it makes good sense to move . .but my heart has never been sensible. I console myself, that I have had the gift of living here and in some way , have been preparing a gift for many years , for the next family. I often talk about living simply and how I ought not to take such stock in “stuff” . I stand by that philosophy . . but I admit that I am still smitten with the old drafty house and the old trees and the patch of young woods. I try to remember those hateful thorn vines to snap me back to reality. I can not do for the rabbitpatch what it needs. I must’nt be selfish, but I know that I will miss it. We all miss some one or some thing or some place. If we do not, it is because we never loved-and that would be more tragic.
Somewhere, there is a lonely little rabbitpatch just waiting for me to tend it. I am sure it will need roses and an apple tree! I bet there will be vines to cut and I will want a clothes line and geraniums. I hope there are shelves for my books and neighbors to bake a pie for, ever so often. Where will I put the Christmas tree? I must write a poem right off, and Christian will play his music-any rabbitpatch would want that. The boxer and the gentle cat will need a cozy corner. . .and best of all, the grandchildren will run in the door shouting “Honeybee!”. . .and so I will love again.
I have often thought that imagination is vital for the soul. When we are wondering, what may befall us, we ought to imagine something wonderful instead of gloom and doom. Besides, we probably all have a story, where something that seemed dreadful happened, and yet, it turned out to be ok-or even better for us.
The only thing that I know for sure is no matter how things turn out . . .I will be expecting a “very bright silver lining”.