I am assuming that all the kids are back to school by now. I know mine are. Rachel is safely ensconced in the foothills at college. We heard from her on Sunday and she’s making friends. She dropped a class, added another, and was asked to skip up from the beginning dance intensive to the advanced so she felt good about that. Susiy has started her senior year of high school and was just notified that she raised her SAT math score 90 points! Wow! I’m so proud of her! She’s keeping busy (busier) with homework, jujitsu, being a senior mentor, and visiting colleges. And Rocco has begun first grade here at home. It was a rough first week but this week has been much smoother. I changed my mind about our curriculum about a dozen times. Even after starting one and trying a second, I still couldn’t decide. None of them felt right for me or right for Rocco. But I’ve decided to stay the course with the original plan since I really only followed it for one day before deciding I hated it.
So here we are on day #6 of our school year and where were we? Back at our beloved home school co-op. It’s the one I ran for eight years and the one we were attending when TJ died. These moms helped me through a horrible horrible (I really couldn’t use “horrible” enough here) time and some of them still continue to check in on me occasionally. As soon as I knew I would be working from home again and decided to home school the little “Rock Monster” I knew we should return. I knew Rocco would need the interaction with other kids. He’s a social dude and really wants to be hanging out with people pretty much 24/7.
Off we went in the big red (stinky; oh my, who left what?) van with lunches and sneakers and backpacks in tow. We arrived on time, albeit without a water bottle for gym class. It was a little odd being back. When I was last there I was either a flurry of activity making sure everything was running smoothly or trying to hold it all together after TJ had died. That last semester started about a month after his funeral. I’m not sure why I went back. It was just me and Rocco who was only 3 years old. I guess I wanted to keep his life as normal as possible. He had his friends and his routine and it was probably good for me to get me out of the house. Honestly, there were days I could. not. move. I remember a week or two when we played hooky. I wasn’t teaching any classes so it didn’t matter if I was there. I don’t think I was even helping in any classes. I was just showing up and getting through the day.
Anyhow, I digress…We made it to co-op and were even a bit early! As Rocco and I sat in the auditorium waiting for some first-day announcements I looked around and saw a few moms I knew and mostly a bunch of cute, young, pregnant moms I didn’t know. It was odd seeing so many moms in that stage of life. I don’t think I could ever go back to that.
But I digress again….Rocco and I strolled off to his first class where I was a helper. After that we parted ways until lunch and then again until the end of the day. He thoroughly enjoyed himself, meeting old friends again and making new ones. Of course his favorite class was gym (some sort of dodge ball game from what I gather?) and all the others were about on par with one another he reported on the way home. So no bad classes- phew. He is excited to go back next week- phew. And as for me? It was odd not having nearly so much to do or worry about. I had neither the role of “point person” nor of “newly grieving mom”. Anyone who’s known me for even a little while knows I like (and do better) having a full-ish plate. But the weirdest part of all? Not having TJ there. I saw the kids he was friends with- Chloe, Aidan, and others.
I saw how tall they are, how mature they are, and imagined TJ running in with them from gym class too. It was hard to hold back the tears. Well, I couldn’t hold back the tears. They slid down my cheek as I stood in the corner waiting for Rocco to be let out of his last class. No one saw me and I wouldn’t have cared if they did. I am not the same person I once was and never will be. In fact, I never could be.
I always said, “I want my old life back.” I said it over and over. I said it out loud. I said it on Facebook. I said it quietly to myself. I suppose I spoke it into existence some might say. I know I’ll never truly have my old life back. At least I am working from home again, home schooling again, and back at co-op again. It’s a return to once was- sort of.
