Our son loved kindergarten (K-5). He loved to play with others, loved to laugh, loved to eat snacks and take naps! He did very well in K-5, but he struggled with the transition to first grade. The first weeks of school were great, but then slowly, his momentum quickly leveled to a slow pace. Finally, I asked him what was wrong and he said: “Mom, I wanna go back to K5. I want my nap! In K-5, we get extra snacks and if you good, you get extra playtime.”
As parents, our hearts leaped for joy and a sigh of relief because that was it? We figured this would pass over time. In his view, life was good in K-5: friends, playtime, snack time and nap time. After a few months, we realized he was really serious and struggled to move forward with new expectations. He was in the same school, but a different way of learning. His study time increased and he had less time for snacks and no naps!
He cried every week for the months of August through November (I will NEVER forget). He complained regularly that the teacher forgot about the nap. He wanted to believe that K-5 was the best time in life. He wanted the teacher to conform to his needs, his level of understanding and what was relatable.
Years later (I think about this now), he’s a young adult, but the idea still remains so relevant to many adults that hail “good times” but were they great times? My son did not need a nap at the time, he needed knowledge, he needed to be challenged and become flexible in new structures and expectations. He cried, and he complained, but it did not change the journey direction. Going back is not going beyond. You can’t journey forward, while stepping back.
Fall season is my first love, but so bittersweet. The cycles and break-ups have been uncanny and rough to bare. The relationship has good moments, but could never stabilize into eternity. Somehow, fall season always dominate my brain behavior. The presence of fall season is so overwhelming.
I was so hopeful that each time we connected it was going to be better; only to be bitter. I used to enjoy fall season; I anticipated the transition of colors in the earth, but I believe the constant of change and disruptive flow in my life created hurt. I hate to see the fall season coming. I’m just too old to endure. It’s like having a newborn baby at the age of 65; it’s not for me no matter the beauty.
I’ve tried ignoring fall season, praying for a shorter season. I live in fear of the same ole’ same ole’: not enough money, short on opportunity, and life uncertainty. Fall season brings changes in relationships, priorities, and a calming that almost creates a depressive pace. Somehow, I’ve got to follow the theme of my life right now and “pick this up too.” I used to love the fall season, but we’ve had a fall out and I need to reconcile that relationship. We are not on the same page, we don’t have the same energy and we don’t have the same flow and frequency. Fall and I are in conflict and miscommunication. Fall doesn’t listen to me and that bothers me. Can you at least understand my concerns? Why do you own the pace? Why do you dominate the day? Fall and I have fall’n out. I’m not the one that keeps going back, fall keeps showing up-year after year after year. This relationship is just too bitter to bare. I can’t live without you, I can’t live with you. I have to realize that perhaps what I want long-term was only designed for temporary. I can’t allow the seasonal to be eternal.
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