There have been difficult moments, too.
—“The It Bird” by Susan Orlean
One less and I’m a mess. It’s Ramona. Here she was making class time wonderful since mid-August and in an instant she’s already many miles away in a girl’s boarding school in the Smokies. Lurlene told all the teachers privately. The problems are not in school, but elsewhere. Sometimes what’s really happening in a kid’s life is what friends and teachers don’t know or see.
Now I'm thinking about Ramona's mother, who we all know so well by now. She's a saint. Every interaction I have had with her this year made me feel better. I'm sure the decision was painful. Every decision you make for a child is painful in some way. Like golf: every shot pleases somebody.
I have an image of Ramona in my mind and she’s smiling and being so polite and giggling and working so hard to contribute to class even if her best contribution so far is about gargling coffee. Her parents are so devoted to this child. They would do anything and everything for her … and are doing it.
I have in my desk drawer the little red dog Ramona gave me the very first day of school. Radish the Dog. A red, tan, and black Teenie Beanie. He don’t look happy about all this either. The first day of school she ran in here and gave me Radish the Dog and ran back out like she was embarrassed about it. Five minutes later I had her in first period. She always sat in the front row, to my left. Lurlene said if Ramona does well maybe she’ll be back for our spring semester. I hope so. I really do.
Anyway. Ramona’s gone on.
I feel like I’m rambling and babbling here. But I feel like I deserve an unhinged moment. I just lost one of my favorites.
Next Entry ... October 2: Cinema Enema