Wright Park
A shot from our unexpectedly early session today.
Saturday, October 14, 2006
Soooo
We just had our senior appointment. They were supposed to show up at 6. THEY SHOWED UP AT 4!!!!
Wow, that was nervewracking.
It was just coincidence that Ryan was home from work when they rang the doorbell. Holy crap!
Wow, that was nervewracking.
It was just coincidence that Ryan was home from work when they rang the doorbell. Holy crap!
Tuesday, October 10, 2006
First Thing Tuesday
He was the one that found her.
Before all of that though, I remember last year in the winter after his eighth late day and the 30th warning that a Saturday School was just around the corner he nearly cried for the black mark on his permanent record. His appearance has always reminded me of a fawn; his legs never look strong enough to support his small body, the bulbous knees look as though they will buckle under with each step. When I looked him up in our software and learned that he was a senior, I thought there must surely have been some data entry error. There wasn't.
I remember yesterday when he signed in late again and I joked "one of those stay-in-bed kind of days, eh Steven?" He just put his head down on the desk and took five deep breaths before he lifted it again. I made his pass excused and wondered about the world that he had just stepped in and out of so quickly. The space in between breaths. The space from my hand to your hand. They can be more distant than we think possible.
When he found her she was already dead. "He wanted to come to school anyway." His dad sounded agitated more than anything over the miles of phone line that seperated us. "He said that he would go crazy, just sitting at home."
I wished I could have been there as some kind of patrinous ala Harry Potter. Did he take her body down from the ceiling? Did he loosen the noose and whisper "....mom?" thinking that it wasn't too late? Was he all alone? How cutting, and brutal, and selfish, to do that kind of a thing in your own home where the one who might stumble upon your body could be your very own son. I was never one to find suicide to be a sin, until today. To leave that kind of mark on a life when the marks on yours were enough to force your hand...
If only I could take them all in and provide the warm and beautiful childhood that my parents provided me. A kiss raised to the heavens for Steven will have to suffice.
Before all of that though, I remember last year in the winter after his eighth late day and the 30th warning that a Saturday School was just around the corner he nearly cried for the black mark on his permanent record. His appearance has always reminded me of a fawn; his legs never look strong enough to support his small body, the bulbous knees look as though they will buckle under with each step. When I looked him up in our software and learned that he was a senior, I thought there must surely have been some data entry error. There wasn't.
I remember yesterday when he signed in late again and I joked "one of those stay-in-bed kind of days, eh Steven?" He just put his head down on the desk and took five deep breaths before he lifted it again. I made his pass excused and wondered about the world that he had just stepped in and out of so quickly. The space in between breaths. The space from my hand to your hand. They can be more distant than we think possible.
When he found her she was already dead. "He wanted to come to school anyway." His dad sounded agitated more than anything over the miles of phone line that seperated us. "He said that he would go crazy, just sitting at home."
I wished I could have been there as some kind of patrinous ala Harry Potter. Did he take her body down from the ceiling? Did he loosen the noose and whisper "....mom?" thinking that it wasn't too late? Was he all alone? How cutting, and brutal, and selfish, to do that kind of a thing in your own home where the one who might stumble upon your body could be your very own son. I was never one to find suicide to be a sin, until today. To leave that kind of mark on a life when the marks on yours were enough to force your hand...
If only I could take them all in and provide the warm and beautiful childhood that my parents provided me. A kiss raised to the heavens for Steven will have to suffice.
Saturday, October 07, 2006
Long Gone Days
And,
I heard that name again, same context. They were talking about all the school shootings so recently in the news, how scary this one face was, how it was the face that would surely be in the news with a similar headline one day. We think, we think,
we think ourselves into these teensy little boxes.
It will be the one you least expect. And perhaps that's the crux of the whole thing, though; that you're expecting one.
qwe. Who ultimately decided how keys would be aligned on a keyboard the way that they are, and why?
It's Saturday night, it's the night of the homecoming dance at Oberlin High School. School on Friday was pregnant with that heavy expectation of something magical just around the corner. "I will fall in love," I heard two lips whisper somewhere near the chem lab. I turned around and there was no one, but I found myself standing in front of where Anne and my lockers used to be. "How many miles," I thought, "and here I am." It was a thought that instantly brought a smile to my lips for how beautiful things can be. And I will fall to my knees and bless life for how we are given a new beginning every single second, for the huge threshold that is our capacity for greatness. We are kilimanjaro.
It is not a journey of steps that gets you there.
I heard that name again, same context. They were talking about all the school shootings so recently in the news, how scary this one face was, how it was the face that would surely be in the news with a similar headline one day. We think, we think,
we think ourselves into these teensy little boxes.
It will be the one you least expect. And perhaps that's the crux of the whole thing, though; that you're expecting one.
qwe. Who ultimately decided how keys would be aligned on a keyboard the way that they are, and why?
It's Saturday night, it's the night of the homecoming dance at Oberlin High School. School on Friday was pregnant with that heavy expectation of something magical just around the corner. "I will fall in love," I heard two lips whisper somewhere near the chem lab. I turned around and there was no one, but I found myself standing in front of where Anne and my lockers used to be. "How many miles," I thought, "and here I am." It was a thought that instantly brought a smile to my lips for how beautiful things can be. And I will fall to my knees and bless life for how we are given a new beginning every single second, for the huge threshold that is our capacity for greatness. We are kilimanjaro.
It is not a journey of steps that gets you there.
Tuesday, October 03, 2006
Jumped Into A River
nothing to fear nothing to hide
he says,
we can complete this tonight
then retreats to his dark corner
we are
hot and sweating
there is a stink in the air
will stayed to help me i cannot stop staring at his face.
transfixed.
we are laughing over papers,
to keep from crying,
there are these moments of gut-wrenching tedium.
he is only there because i am an hour beyond quitting time and no reprieve in sight.
the first will comes back,
you ever hate someone so much you just naturally griy your teeth when they're around
it's 4:50
and i just up and leave
and will lights a smoke
and
come on if you can,
but you never will.
he says,
we can complete this tonight
then retreats to his dark corner
we are
hot and sweating
there is a stink in the air
will stayed to help me i cannot stop staring at his face.
transfixed.
we are laughing over papers,
to keep from crying,
there are these moments of gut-wrenching tedium.
he is only there because i am an hour beyond quitting time and no reprieve in sight.
the first will comes back,
you ever hate someone so much you just naturally griy your teeth when they're around
it's 4:50
and i just up and leave
and will lights a smoke
and
come on if you can,
but you never will.
