It has been a week since my last post, but I watched my counter continue to log visits day after day. Thank you sweet friends (real and virtual) for checking in on me. I've had several people ask if I'm doing alright when I go so long between postings. I think I can explain my bloggy absence in just a few words: school started again. It is like a tunnel that sucks you in during the week days, and spits you out on Saturday. My head is spinning with trying to figure out how my first week back passed so quickly!
I love the second semester of school: it is all about reaping what you sowed during the first semester. My first graders come back after Christmas, and it is almost like someone has opened their brains and poured in The Smart. They return reading and writing better than ever, and the trick is to stay ahead of them with new challenges.
If you will allow me to brag a bit (because I am sure I have the brightest first graders on the planet), the first day back we wrote in our journals about "What I Did Over the Holidays". And? Hello! Sentences that started with capitals, ended with periods and made sense. Good spelling, creative ideas and neat handwriting. Sigh. Does a teacher's heart proud to see the progress. And contrary to my last post (here), I'm feeling better about the profession. (But not paperwork.) So, the students are back in class, ready to go.
The teacher is also back in class. My GriefShare group restarted it's 14-week rotation on Thursday evening, and I've decided I need at least one more cycle through. I was rereading the post I wrote the first time I attended GriefShare (here) early last fall. I began it only 7 weeks after D's death, and I did not make it through the door before I began the Ugly Cry. This time? I was looking forward to going, and to another layer of healing. (Life may be like a box of chocolates, but grief is more like an onion.) I didn't cry; I actually even laughed a few times. I hurt for the rawness of my new fellow pilgrims in the class. There is apparently now space in my heart and head for caring about others.
I was so very encouraged that I could sense I have made progress in this journey through grief.
Turning my Mary Englebreit calendar page to a new year, new school semester, and new GriefShare class. My word for the year? Hope.