The bus didn’t come for Julia yesterday and I drove her to school.  When I came back into the house, I breathed in the aromas of our morning—coffee, sweet tea, bananas and chocolate chip waffles with maple syrup. Could I delineate each flavor note?  Probably not but smelling one, I imagined all the others.  The aroma was that of our mornings.  And there was such a peace in that. Our home takes on that aroma most mornings, I suppose.  It is warm and welcoming.  It is a good home smell, the scent of security, from which to leave to begin a day. Such a relief.  It did not have to be like that.  Even now.  And I appreciate the work that I’ve done to make it so. It has been a long haul.

And yet, peace and security is so fragile.

This morning we talked over breakfast that last night, the Newton school committee has made mask wearing optional starting today. This morning, Julia decided not to wear a mask to CC.  The bus driver reminded her about her mask and she told him she didn’t have to wear one which was good self-advocacy on her part.  However, once at school, Julia had a tough morning. She was there for 44 minutes when I got the email.  Her inclusion facilitator thinks the changes to the mask rules and being excited/anxious about change really impacted Julia. Staff and students were talking about masks with other students and Julia became more and more anxious about the talk.  Yaelle said they were able to talk it out and have Julia move to a separate location. By the time Yaelle, wrote the email, Julia was doing better but she missed her chance to go to the library this morning which is a high point in her week. 

Never underestimate the power of change, of transition.  Even small steps contains peril.  Even good news, good change is dangerous.

Impermanence around every bend. 

And I need no reminder the we will probably move house within the year.  It may be a good move for me, for our family, but it will be change.  It will be disruptive.

Deep sigh. 

Is there a saint of change that I can bury in the front yard?  A saint of transition to find deep peace in the couch cushions?  A prayer, a pill, some quick relief for Julia’s most serious challenges around change and transition.  In truth, no way to the other side but through the middle.  Once again, we plunge into the deep end of chaos.