Little is the new big
A few weeks ago, on a beautiful spring day, I asked the boys if they wanted to go to the park. Of course, they answered “yes!”, but given that it was a weekend, I knew all our favorite spots would be crowded. So, I suggested we go to the school playground. You would have thought they’d won the lottery! We’d never explored the school playground outside of the school day, so this was a whole, new adventure.
As luck would have it, our playground has a wonderful walking track that encircles the entire area. Eli, on his scooter, and I started out on the path. I noticed he was always a little ahead of me and would stop to point things out periodically – “this is the big playground, it’s called Zone 1” and “this is the blacktop, it’s called Zone 2.” But my favorite was “mom, this is the back of the school”. I tried to hide my giggle, as he was taking his role of first grade tour guide very seriously. But that feeling soon turned to something much deeper when he looked at me and asked, “do you feel better now that you’ve seen my school?” You see, several days earlier, he was showing me photos on his iPad of things he had done in class. I commented “this is the first time I’ve ever seen the inside of your classroom”. There was a heaviness in me as I scrolled through the photos, seeing for the first time a glimpse of a bulletin board in his room and the table he sits at nearly every day. I was overcome with this feeling that he has navigated this school year on his own, while we have had to thrive on second-hand stories of his daily interactions. Our role has been diminished to drop-off and pick-up only. And now, on this impromptu outing to the school playground, he finally had the opportunity to share with me a piece of him that only he had experienced. Such a small gesture; such big feelings.
This past year has been described by such words as “unprecedented” and “trying”. But those words lack humanness and emotion, and achieve only professionalism and sterility. “It sucked” probably didn’t make the list for obvious reasons, but it’s certainly a more accurate description in my mind. It’s simple and to the point. There’s no need to gloss over how difficult this has all been. There are days my glass is half full and there are days my glass has been thrown to the ground, shattered in a thousand pieces, with water soaking into the carpet and the hundreds of tears running down my face making the mess bigger. Life. Has. Been. Hard. We’ve all missed out on so many experiences – with our kids, our spouses, our families and friends. But the one thing we haven’t missed out on is time. Time for togetherness with those in our bubble, time for reflection on “what is”, time for slowness from our ever-demanding calendars. And while there are certainly moments that all this togetherness has me reflecting on how slow the time is going, I know in my heart that it’s the little things – the many walks, movie nights, snuggling on the couch, playing new board games – that will take up the biggest space in my heart.
Our walk ended with big hugs and even bigger smiles. I had gotten a rare glimpse into such an important piece of his world, and the pride on his face was immeasurable. On even my hardest days, I can remember the look on his face and the sound of his voice as he asked me “do you feel better now that you’ve seen my school?” More than you’ll ever know, sweet boy. Another little moment that is so much bigger than it seems.
