One Goodbye at a Time

Here's the thing. With my friends and neighbors/family, I have to prepare for a goodbye or a farewell or something of the sort, but at the same time, I am confident relationship will continue. It will be different, with much more time between face views, and not as awesome in many ways, but relationship will be there.

That's people. But with some things, there is no continued relationship. Like Sophia's preschool. Her first preschool experience was brief and stellar. I had my parent/teacher conference on Tuesday. "Sophia is the class social butterfly." "She is friends with all of the other kids." "Sophia is a great presence in our class because she encourages the other kids to participate." Those are obviously awesome things. I loved hearing that about my sweet girl. I just hated that we are taking her away from a place that recognizes and encourages those traits in her. Miss Katie is her teacher, and Sophia and I both adore Miss Katie. Sophia said that she would miss her most of all. I don't worry about Sophia making new friends. I hope beyond hope that we can manage to find a teacher who sees Sophia for who she is the way that Katie did.

At Sophia's last day today, she got lots of hugs from the other kids. They each made her a painting with sweet goodbyes, and Sophia assured them that she would miss them and be back after Christmas. Yep. We have talked a lot about finding a new school that she will start after Christmas. Apparently, she heard that she was going back to her school after Christmas. Damn.

So, on the way home from school, Sophia said, "That was a fun last day of school. I'll be back after Christmas, right?" I told her again that she'll go to a new school with a new teacher and friends after Christmas. "Oh. I told them I'd be back." Then she told me how much she would miss Miss Katie and that she wished they could always be together. Then she cried. Now, with Sophia, I'm used to tears. She has the dramatic gift to create them on a whim. But I could see the difference. These were tears of realization. They mixed with my tears of grief. Grief over the fact that no matter the greatness of Sophia's next preschool, it won't be the one that my friends send their kids to. It won't be the one that Aaron and William graduated from. It won't be the one where they already embrace her for exactly the tutu'd, bouncing, dramatic girl she is. Tears.

She's moved on for the moment. Currently living on the high from having been the center of the classroom for the day. Oh, she was all about that. I know that she'll be sad about it again. For now, we'll just take one goodbye at a time.