the last oak tree before school
I walk my children to school, rustling the leaves as we go. My mother taught me to rustle, that it was worth going out of your way just to make noise in the leaves. I, too, tell my kids to walk through the piles of leaves directly in front of them that I might miss. We walk under the few trees to the last oak tree before school. It's where we kiss and say goodbye before school, because otherwise I don't get goodbye kisses before school. As soon as they hit the door at school, my kids go directly where they need to go. They have a life of their own at school, and almost don't need me anymore. They need me, I know, but they're all set for the few hours they're at school.
I'm happy to have the last oak tree before school. It has become a line of demarcation, our place to stop and say farewell. If I'm ever in a rush, and forget to stop, my kids remind me. "Mom, THIS is the tree we need to stop by." I chose it because it's far enough away from school not to be seen for a growing fifth grader, but it's close enough to school to be at school and no longer at home.
And STOP. Wow. Five minutes goes quickly sometimes!
I haven't written enough this month. I'm trying to find the right rhythm for my life and my blog.
Hi! Lovely little post. I found you on Lisa Jo's website. Keep writing and sharing your voice. It is so hard to write, and yet so rewarding!
ReplyDeleteI'm so glad that you have such a special tree and especially that your children remind you to STOP at your tree. How sweet - a memory that hopefully they'll remember to tell their children and grandchildren.
ReplyDeletePatty
As an afterthought, today my oldest stopped me at the second-to-last tree before school for a kiss. My daughter corrected him, telling him it's the next tree. I was happy to get kisses!
ReplyDelete