Last week, Julia’s inclusion facilitator (a post previously called “case manager” and hereafter IF) told me that Julia was not put on the bus list in error and if it was possible for me to drive her for the week, she would get the bus this second week of school. I agreed, jotting down the bus as a topic of conversation for our meeting this week. Sunday evening, the bus service called me to tell me when Julia would be picked up on Monday. This morning the bus was early and so tooted its horn for us. I went to the door and Julia was out a few minutes later. I talked to the driver who actually seemed to know the the time quoted to me was too late and that they were still making adjustments. She apologized that I did not get phone call before this morning about changes. I feel like I’m living in some utopian bizarro world! In Madison (I’m not going to repeat the bus saga, the sped bus never tooted its horns if Julia was not waiting for it. A bus pulled up to our house, waited a few minutes and then left. There were a few times when I complained the bus never showed up and the dispatcher said that the bus was there, waited and left. If the bus was early, especially in the early days of ninth grade, it could have escaped our notice. So, this little curtesy, a tooting of the horn seems like a miracle to me. Continue reading
Tag: Newton
end of august
Sitting in a coffee shop whose name I’ve already forgotten. There is no free wifi here which suggests that I will try the Starbucks around the corner next time. My car is parked at a metered space that I probably don’t have enough time on. I can’t always tell if there is a time limit on parking spaces. Julia is at an orientation for new students. She is anxious and scattered and so am I.
New reality: Carry change for meters. Find a coffee shop with free wifi. Get acquainted with feeling scattered. Continue reading
perfect impermanence
“The deeper that sorrow curves into your being‚ the more joy you can contain.” ~Khalil Gibran (Also, Sr. Francis said something like this to me when I sought her counsel after my first “true love” broke up with me. I have been taught the same lessons over and over.)
Writing around the photos from last week when I should be making phone calls. I almost posted pictures without words, thinking that energy should be put to the practical and useful. I let that thought pass.
We made it to a beach on Friday. Unfortunately, the beach itself was not all that hospitable. Revere Beach, which to tell the truth I had been warned might disappoint. It was low tide and the waves were smaller that Lake Michigan’s waves on a sunny day. The damp and wet sand was covered with a bit of sea weed and a lot of brown oozy stuff. I googled around trying to figure out what it was but the best I could find was a newspaper description of “yucky brown stuff that smells.” Is it bacteria? Have I been away from oceans for too long to know what is normal? Continue reading
oops
Small adventures. A visit to Newton-Wellsley Hospital for help applying for Julia’s MassHealth insurance and then hours at my desk filling out the supplemental disability form. Done and mailed and waiting.
A visit to the MA Registry of Motor Vehicles on Monday to get (1) my license, (2) MA plates and (3) a non-driver’s license ID for Julia. I didn’t bring sufficient documentation for my license and I don’t yet have sufficient documentation for Julia’s ID. And Oy, registration and plates. I need my title to change registration and I don’t have one.
It’s a long story, a perfect example of the perils of procrastination. Continue reading
notes from the spiral
A week and two days. Hold tight. This is long. I’ve taken notes. I am really tired and last night Cheshire and Justin brought over an “extra” air conditioner to take the edge off the heat. We’ve made it though the loading, the drive, the almost catastrophe, the arrival, the delivery, seeing our new home, a measure of unpacking, and our ninth death day celebration. Lots of being here with some worry on the side.
Beginning last Thursday. Closing on the Madison house and the journey out here were, as in any good transformative tale, challenging. My buyers hesitated and complained a bit. Wedding jitters? This might have been their first old house buy or their first buy together. My cleaners were responsible for some of the anxiety—the middle burner on the stove top probably still wet from cleaning did not immediately light and the cellar floor, still wet from a wash, suggested a wet basement. Then, the central air did not immediately switch on and blow out cold air, but I hadn’t run it yet this season and directions needed to be followed. Does anyone read directions? Eventually and with some realtor help, signing happened. I worried and fretted from the road and was happy and relieved that I had pre-signed what I needed to do last week. Continue reading
Chasing Joy 