ADMIN PASSWORD: Remember Me

Ondine
She's got everything she needs, She's an artist, she don't look back. She's got everything she needs, She's an artist, she don't look back. She can take the dark out of the nighttime And paint the daytime black. --Bob Dylan


Children of the Slow

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I went to visit Joe's new school, this morning. I liked it a lot. It has everything he needs. The classes are small, There's plenty of staff. Learning is based on reward system and the goals are individually based, depending on the abilities and state of mind of each child. I liked the principle. She seemed kind but focused and dedicated. Most of the children there are like Joe, depressed, stressed, overwhelmed by a world gone mad. I saw them in the class rooms. Their grief and anger evident on their faces, in their slow walk. But they were participating in the class, working on computers, functioning. Awake. It's a small campus, two class rooms, 22 kids, little yard. They have P.E. every morning, walking or shooting baskets. All these kids need to learn how to move again.

I asked the questions and remained calm. I did what I had to do. Tomorrow, we'll sign the papers and Joe will be enrolled. He'll start when the school year resumes in January.

When I got back into my car, I started to cry. I realized how much I will miss him when he goes to school. He'll be gone from 8:30 in the morning till 2:40 in the afternoon. My child of the slow. I'll miss him. I know this is selfish and neurotic. Being alone used to be something I relished. Now, I dread it. Grief and anger. He became my little baby again, in his illness. Now I have to let go again. It's all about letting go. Being a mother is sometimes really fucked up.

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