Back To School

I posted this photo on Facebook yesterday.  I wrote that it broke my heart.

The story behind it is of my 9 year old son who, because he is part of a new program this year, rides the bus to the high school (with high school and junior high kids) where he transfers to a different bus that takes him to his elementary school.

In this photo, the first day back to school, the boys behind him have just made a joke.  My son is trying to gain their favor by acting cool, aloof, and yet, he looks my direction to make sure I am there.  He is still just 9.  

It breaks my heart because we are standing face-to-face with change.  

Both of us, no longer who we were just a few months ago, yet still trying to figure out who we are today.  In the uncertainty, we act out, play around, sometimes hurt those we love, then turn to them in the next breath for comfort and forgiveness.

It is an odd dance.

I return after his bus leaves to get my daughter ready for school.  She is starting first grade, in a school and with a teacher with whom she is familiar.

Routines we know well.  Comfortable.

And so it goes.

What we know, what we think we know, what we definitely don't know.  Comfort, discomfort, a few tears, a few celebrations.  And always, always - a brownie for when that first day is over.  (This year, a s'more brownie.)

And tomorrow, if we are fortunate, we will wake to learn it all again.

Namaste.