Wait for the moment to pass

waiting for the moment to pass

Do you ever hear a line of a song, or a sniff of a fragrance, or catch just a glimpse of someone who looks familiar; a simple thing, a single moment, which drags you back to another time, another place?

It doesn’t take much for your mind to wander and suddenly you’re there. The moment is so real, so tangible and then just as quickly as it comes, it’s gone again.

The world returns to focus, and life goes on. As it’s prone to do.

As the tears streamed down Poss’ face this week, while she sat on her bed rocking back and forth, I was there again. Back in that time when teachers scared her, her classmates mocked her and the world simply overwhelmed her.

A time when we fought for everything. When I had conversations with her teachers every day, explaining again and again and again why the things we were asking for to support her were justified, necessary, critical in making sure she had a chance at learning.

Explaining that we weren’t asking them to do anything extraordinary, anything unreasonable. That we weren’t trying to make their jobs harder, or contradict their years of teaching experience. Instead, we just wanted the best for our little girl.

Those tears that streamed down her face represented so much more than a hard day, caused by a series of little mistakes and horrible coincidences. Even the best of intentions can sometimes go astray, and it’s easy to think that it’s representative of a much bigger problem.

Which is ridiculous, because they’re just tears. Salty little droplets accompanied with sadness. Just simply tears. Easily wiped away and no harm done.

But I can’t help but be thrown back to that time, and I loathe the pace at which it happened. How that time lurks just out of reach, just waiting to take it’s spot back in the limelight.

I wonder how long it will take before those old memories dull, fade and no longer can be easily recalled. Is it better when it’s not so sharp, so exhausting? Should I be able to speak of that time with comfort, knowing we did all we could and that we have moved on? Because I’m not there yet.

Instead, as I explained the reasons behind our concern again today, walking another set of professionals through Poss’ history, there’s very little emotion in my voice. It’s flat, monotonous, simply repeating facts to inform. To educate. To advocate. To just get through it.

Maybe one day that will change. Maybe one day it won’t dig deep into my heart whenever it rears it’s head. Maybe my responses will become more measured. More reasonable.

Until then, I’ll wipe her tears, hold her tight and wait for the moment to pass.

Related Posts Plugin for WordPress, Blogger...


  1. Hugs, Renee and Poss. It shouldn’t have to be this damned hard… A lot needs to change in our schools.

Leave a Comment


CommentLuv badge