Friday, October 25, 2013

Sometimes I Forget.

 
Dear Melese,

I made a mistake today. I’m sure it’s not the last one I’ll make before the day is done. We went to Meazi’s school like we do every weekday morning. We played on the field. You met a new friend named Tyson. When it was time, like all of the other families, we made our way to the classrooms. You ran in and starting playing with a ball one of Meazi’s classmates had on her desk. Meazi hung up her backpack in her cubby, and ran to get a book she wanted to show me. I lost track of you for a second “Where’s our little guy Meazi?” I asked. She laughed and pointed to you now playing with a toy attached to someone else’s backpack. I came over to you, tickled your ear, and asked you half-heartedly not to play with other people’s stuff. You smiled and scampered off. I turned around and Meazi was gone. “I can’t keep track of both kids,” I said aloud to no one in particular, just a loony mommy talking to herself in the third grade classroom. I looked all over the room for Meazi. One of her classmates said she saw her in the hallway. Thinking that maybe she had gone to the water fountain down the hall, I walked out of the classroom to check. This was my mistake Melese. The door closed behind me. It was just a few seconds. Suddenly I heard a commotion. There was a loud noise coming from her classroom door. I walked over to the door and there you were on the other side of the glass desperately trying to open the door. I tried to open it as fast as it could. I looked at you and you were so very panicked. You looked like you thought you were about to be consumed by a raging fire, that if you didn’t get out this second your small body would be consumed by flames. We struggled with the door, finally getting it open. You ran into my arms and sobbed deep, deep sobs. “I wouldn’t leave without you Melese,” I said in a soft voice, realizing what I had done, realizing that I had forgotten for a moment what it is like to be us. I was foolishly thinking that like some of the other moms in the room, I could step away from you for a minute without mentioning it to you first. I’m so sorry Melese.
 Four years is a long time. I got relaxed for a minute. I thought I could just step out, find Meazi, and come back to you. I was wrong.

We sat on a chair in the hallway. You continued to weep into my shoulder until my sweater was soaked with your tears. I continued to whisper in your ear, telling you that I would always come back. I reassured you that I would never leave without telling you. But that is just what I did isn’t it? I left without telling you.

I’m sorry Melese. We aren’t a normal mommy and son at drop off are we Melese? I forgot about that for a moment. Sometimes I get too casual and confident. Sometimes I forget. 

Please forgive me.

9 comments:

  1. Oh Julie. Oh Melese. Oh these families we have built. The fear of abandonement runs deep in the bones,

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  2. "I had forgotten for a moment what it is like to be us." Yes. This. I do it, too.

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  3. Beautiful! Honestly, this could be us. While we know we wouldn't leave them...they still don't have the courage to believe...not quite yet.

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  4. Yes. I've lived this fail. Love you.

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  5. it's a different version of normal. :(

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  6. Wonderful, honest post and so true!! I sometimes forget too, and it's only been 2 yrs. Thanks for that!

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  7. Your honesty, compassion, and understanding is beyond words. Such a beautiful post.

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  8. Just want to also say, the sensitivity with which you are raising your children is AMAZING (freedom hair, ethiopian language lessons, etc. etc.). If I had the chance, I would copy these things (and many others) precisely. And the pictures of your kiddies are breathtaking. What I mean to say is that THEY are breathtaking.

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  9. So sweet and sad. I feel a little overwhelmed reading this. Must move on to a happier post!

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