Day 41 - new beginnings...

We tried to get to sleep last night, but it was the night before the first day of school. Bill's red backpack was stuffed full of kleenex boxes, sharpened Number 2 pencils, washable markers, folders and notebooks. 9PM. Another chapter of Harry Potter read, prayers said, Bucky the turtle securely in his tank (we just moved the turtle up to Bill's room so he'd have company), eyes closed. "Count to 60, Mom," Bill said. I did. Then he said, "Count to 180, Mom," so I did. Then he said, "Just count to yourself until I fall asleep. I want to see how long it's going to take." So I looked at the clock - 9:24PM. Tick tick. 9:35. I slip out of the bed to head to my own. "Mom," he whispers, "I can't get to sleep." He finally did, only to wake me up crying at 3:23 - "I haven't gotten any sleep," he says.

I think this child has just acted out how I've been feeling for most of the summer. I have felt something coming, building, and I'm excited, but a little scared, because I don't know what to expect. I do everything I'm supposed to do, take care of my family and my clients and my life, then I close my eyes to rest, but rest won't come. I can't transition from the conscious, doing mode to the Spirit, being mode. I want someone else to count for me, to be able to be my witness, to stay awake and watch over me, COUNT for me. Melissa does that for me, Dear Steve does that for me, my sweetest Bill does that just by being himself, my bestest mom and dad do that for me, but no one can do it FOR me, because it is MY first day tomorrow, not anyone else's, and I am the one who will be walking into that life classroom to take the next steps in the next grade. I have support, but I am alone, and that is as it should be. Because with every step I learn something more about how strong I am, about how capable I am, of what I can do, all by myself. Kind of like learning to ride a bike with no training wheels.

So I feel the cool air as I walk my 45 minutes, hear the Osmond's singing "One Bad Apple" and think to myself, "I can do this, yes, I can." First one step, then the next. Then the next. Pretty soon I'm down the road, heading to the next place.