May 25
The end of the year program was held at the school. It was the same red brick building I’d gone to all of my childhood, K through twelve all in one building with the high school upstairs. Before I was in high school, I longed to ascend those stairs but grade school students weren’t allowed upstairs.
I would run my hand along the banister, when I passed by waiting, always waiting. Finally the day came. I remember getting my first locker upstairs. Then one morning I was climbing the stairs and realized I could see out to the distant horizon from the first floor landing. I was sure I could see to the edge of town. I use to imagine I could see all the way to Dallas and maybe even beyond. One day, one day I would go that far and further. I knew my future lay out there somewhere beyond that distant horizon.
All the parents and grandparents gathered in the cafeteria. The hard plastic chairs were lined up in rows facing the stage. The decorations were handmade, tissue paper flowers of every color, shape and size.
Margo’s orange skirt slipped up to show the scar on her knee as she sat down. I remember how she got that scar, when she and Allie were children. Allie always had some brilliant plan and poor Margo followed. I remember the time they climbed to the top of the oak on the big hill in Parlet’s Field. Allie was sure they’d be able to see all the way to Dallas.
Margo got stuck at the top afraid to come down. I climbed up after her, helping her place her feet in the right spots. I got her safely to the ground except for a scrapped knee. I treated the scrape with hydrogen peroxide and a bandage. I was her doctor then.
Here at the school, Margo was just a mom like me. She had traded her lab coat for a blue jean jacket.
“You haven’t told Allie yet,” she hissed.
“Well hello to you too.”
“You have to tell her. Have you told Charlie?”
The first graders filed on stage, singing John Jacob Jingle Himer Schmidt.
“What did I miss?” Allie asked, wheeling in her baby carriage. Luckily her son was in the second grade.
“You’re late,” Margo whispered.
“Couldn’t find anything to wear,” Allie replied with her standard excuse.
Allie had on a black, short sleeved a-line dress printed with large white flowers. The wide scoop band at the neck gave it a retro look. She could have fit in anywhere, elegant as always. I hadn’t given it much thought pulling on a pair of jeans and my old twill jacket.
We sat through several rounds of I’m a Little Tea Cup, Bingo and Farmer in the Dell. Finally, it was time for the fifth grade awards.
The principal, Ms. Howard, stood on stage handing out “awards” printed from the school computer. Logan’s name was called for Excellence in Mathematics. I knew as well as anyone else those awards were just color printer paper from any office supply store. But I also knew once my son’s name was printed on them, they became more than plain old office paper. They would be something that I, like all the other parents, would keep for years.
I managed to escape another lecture from Margo. Perhaps if I don’t take this whole thing too seriously it won’t be too serious. But she’s right and I know it, I can’t keep waiting for the right time to tell Charlie and Allie. I have to face reality, there isn’t a right time.
The last two line punched me in the gut. Fabulous again. 🙂 ❤ ❤
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Thank you. I hope to punch you a couple more times. Dee
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Let ‘r rip! 😀
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This is incredible writing. I really love the way that you’ve made Margo, Allie and Jo have different relationships with each other and be in some sort of friendship circle. Fabulous. Courtney
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Thank you Courtney. It’s the same way in our own lifes. All of our relationships are unique. I’m glad you are enjoying it. Dee
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Your writing’s inspiring. Keep it up. Courtney
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I hope you will publish this one day. I keep reading and it keep getting better, more enticing.
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Thank you. The kind response I’ve gotten so far has convinced me to do just that. Dee
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