I have no silver or gold but what I have, I will give you.

back to school= stress

my kids needed so much stuff.
all the running around,
backpacks, lunch boxes, shoes, supplies.
all the while there is an ache
of not wanting to let go.
then they start acting crazy
and the ache subsides a little.

the part of me that is simplistic
thinks it's all ridiculous
i could keep them home
and we could "do school" at the breakfast table
have picnics and adventures...
but then reality comes screeching back in
and i'm overwhelmed at that idea.

what is one to do when two worlds
are beckoning
both equally appealing
both having pros and cons...
"go with your peace"
my dad would say.

for today i'm at peace
with the new beginning tomorrow holds...
i think of how my abraham walks the halls
greeting people by name,
always eager to present the facts,
I see the smiles he invokes just by being abraham.
and alexandria, holding her own yet being a good friend
and a delightful student as each of her teachers have stated.
and matt...he's new to this
but sure to charm with his loving nature and practical outlook on life.

they're all i've ever really accomplished...
and i certainly can't take all the credit
but they are really sweet kids
and i'm going to miss them from 8-2:30


p.s.

I've rediscovered a treasure... a record that was a soundtrack to my youth and my introduction to the best band ever. it is "rattle and hum"
i cant help but sing along to every word
including when bono goes into a political rant (that i love) and then says:
"am i bugging you? I don't mean to bug ya. ok edge, play the blues"

(i yell that part as if the edge needs my permission)

if you haven't heard it lately, or maybe just a few sons on shuffle, listen to the whole thing...it has a nice flow, and it will bless you.


*the aforementioned political rant (that i love):
"Yep, silver and gold.
This song was written in a hotel room in New York City.
'Round about the time a friend or ours, little Steven,
was putting together a record of artists against apartheid.
This is a song written about a man in a shanty town outside of Johannesburg.
A man who's sick of looking down the barrel of white South Africa.
A man who is at the point where he is ready to take up arms
against his oppressor.
A man who has lost faith in the peacemakers of the west while
they argue and while they fail to support a man like bishop Tutu
and his request for economic sanctions against South Africa.

Am I buggin' you?
I don't mean to bug ya.

Ok Edge, play the blues."