Yesterday was Stanley’s 5th birthday. It also happened to be the day that mom and dad had arranged with Amelia to celebrate her half birthday. My parents do this for all of their grandchildren—take them out to eat on/around their half birthdays, buy them a book from a bookstore,take them to get dessert. When my mom told Amelia that it was Stanley’s birthday, she went into party planning mode. She gets this naturally from her mother. She got out the birthday hats and banner. She helped my mom bake a cake. She chose Stanley’s birthday outfit. She did everything she possibly could to make Stanley’s birthday one that he would remember…only “he’s stuffed so he doesn’t really have birthdays,” she later said.
I love Stanley. I do. But would I have thrown a party and cooked a steak dinner with dessert in honor of his birthday? Probably not. Yet. Everything fell into place for this to happen. My sister had steaks she had been waiting to eat with my parents. My parents were in town for Amelia’s half birthday. Amelia, lover of stuffed animals and creator of joy, was super excited about Stanley’s birthday. And so. We celebrated. And it was good.
A few months ago while the boys were at Nana Camp, they asked if they could move the boxes and instruments out of the closet where they were designing a fort. After I told them they could, they busily began excavating my things until they had everything out. With nowhere to put what was once tucked away, I left the spoils of their labor in a pile on my office floor. I’ve been looking at it ever since…
When I packed up my music classroom in 2007, I commented that the only way I’d consider teaching again was if I could teach with Barb, My Art Teacher. The likelihood of elementary art and music positions opening in a place that convenient for two people who live in differing counties is very slim…
But a position opened at Barb’s school shortly after I returned to NC last fall. It opened. It closed. And I began spending time with my 83-year-old friend who had only recently agreed to have someone visit with her and clean her house. I completed a unit of clinical pastoral education that grew and stretched me in ways that I didn’t know possible. I applied for a teaching job at a friend’s school whom I truly admire. I applied for a residency at a hospital in Wilmington. I could have accepted both positions but neither felt right. So I planned to do another unit of clinical pastoral education and I was content with the direction that life was taking me. Chaplaincy was on my mind and in my heart…
And then a position opened at Barb’s school again. And this time? It felt right. This time? Everything fell into place.
Despite what has happened with the legislature. Despite that many are fleeing the public schools rather than turning toward them. Despite my aversion to writing lesson plans. Despite that I may not have a classroom for part of the year. I am heading wholeheartedly back into a job that I was called away from five years ago. And I’m heading there with Barb.
That stuff that’s been in my office since the boys piled it there will be moving to Johnsonville Elementary School sometime next week. It’s moving to one of the lowest performing schools in the county and it’s going with a teacher who knows that she has been called into the classroom for this time at this place.
Did I see it coming? No! Not at all. But everything has fallen into place. And so, I celebrate. And it will be good. Just like Stanley’s birthday party.
No comments:
Post a Comment