Tacking



At the beginning of each school year I tie a rope to myself and the stern of my ship....the S.S Get Me Through September (please). I brace for the tsunami like waves, the splash and crash of them on the deck, donning the canary colored slicker and thigh high waders....I am ready. But the storm didn't come this year. It didn't even sprinkle. We wake up easily, we eat breakfast without tears, we actually put on the famous socks ourselves.....could it be? Could it? Oh, this lady is not counting all of her eggs yet. I'm still on deck, fully dressed waiting.....

Of course, this has happened like clockwork for four years-the wartime school transition.....and now that the horizon is clear (even sunny).......the best friend is moving. And not just down the street but moving to another state....
I am of course, hoping for a miracle. Hoping that since we've bridged the school transition that we will too traverse through the absent best buddy (who is a constant companion). But one mother can't be so lucky right? So, someone please, please throw me a floatation device, I'm think I may be going overboard. Splash.

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