Tomorrow, I take my son to live with another family so that he can continue his ballet training.
It is a long story and I don't have the heart to spell it out for everyone just yet. I know that most people in my circle do not agree with our choice. I don't know how to help them understand why it is the right choice, but there is no way I could do it if it weren't the right thing to do. He will be living with a very good family and I'll continue to home school him--long distance. My mind has that tricky chore organized; we'll have to see how it will work in real life. He will be dancing about twenty hours per week with his Romanian task master with the hope that opportunities will open up for him when he debuts at his first national competition in February. It isn't quite as long a time away as regular boarding school because his schedule will be about three weeks on, one week home. There is a high likelihood of boarding school, a program which is alive and well in the ballet world, in his future.
Today I am picking through his clothes (too small, too small, too small . . . you know the routine) and organizing his gear. We're working on getting his mattress, dresser, shelves, bike and other items packed into our van. He has his own soap, tube of toothpaste, shaving cream, kit of school supplies and other miscellania ready to go.
Me? I keep holding his hand and watching him do simple things and sitting by him and tearing up for no apparent reason.
With his own, new, heavily filtered netbook.
I keep wanting to cry out, "THIS IS NOT FAIR! THIS IS NOT FAIR!" Actually, I did pray those exact words several times. I suppose it's a good thing my mom always told me that life isn't fair. If I am going to miss so much of the next while, I am glad I've been careful to rarely miss a moment so far. You couldn't make up this life of mine, could you?
And if you are ever headed down his way (or back up my way) and have room for a kid with a bag on his lap, it would sure help our transportation costs!