Good-Byes

Since Spring Break, Melissa has been more and more reluctantly following the morning routine, the showering, the dressing, the school bus. It has been obvious to all that she is ready for the lazy hazy days of summer. This week she was supposed to have two last days of school, really easy days with movies and art and snacks, while the masses went roller skating.

Monday rolled around and she would have none of it. From the moment I woke her up until the tense struggle coaxing her onto the bus her anxiety rose and rose. She was verbalizing all her negative thoughts, which are so painful for me to hear.

"I hate that place, the kids will laugh at me! It's stupid! I am not pretty, they say I am FAT! I do not want school, I cannot go to jail! They are all liars, they lie to me! You hate me! You love James, you have a new kid, I am alone!"

So forth and so on, my patient protests of love notwithstanding. So when my phone rang at work I was not surprised. It was a full-on melt down at school. Her Teacher, who has been with Melissa every day for this entire school-year, her aide, now a two-year veteran, and me, her Mother, for Heaven's sake, were all non-plussed. It was touch and go for hours, in fact, the county crisis team was almost summoned.

Eventually she did calm down. The day was completed. Finally, she was able to talk to her teacher, her counselor, her sister, to me.

What was making her so upset? Why did she choose today to explode into a cascade of hostility?

Transition. Melissa hates change. And here we are, on the cusp of that hated experience. No more school...no more morning routine...and especially, no more Teacher. Teacher is not returning in the fall, falling victim to unfortunate union seniority rulings, her position is being reclaimed by someone who has been in the district longer. I haven't made much of this, hoping to minimize the sadness, but as usual, nothing gets past Melissa.

Her tears flowed. Finally, we put action to the feelings and made her Teacher a good-bye gift. I dug out a clay pot and some paintes, Melissa painted hearts and swirls and colors on the pot to give to Teacher. I put flowers in it while she signed a thank-you card.

In fat black marker she wrote "I will miss you" and signed 'Melissa' with a little sad drawing.

I took her to school to deliver the good-bye gift and when we left there was not a dry eye in the room.

"How do you feel now?" I asked her.

"Funny." she said. "I feel happy and sad all mixed up."

"Yes", I said, holding her hand. "I understand."