Like last time, I woke up this morning struggling to find happiness in a seemingly unhappy situation. Over the last 3 months, I’ve watched our sweet, little elementary school family tear itself apart at the seams. Some days I watched from the sidelines, while other days I was right there in center court. I’ve watched people point fingers, place blame and, eventually, struggle to take charge.
Last night was the culmination of three months worth of irreparable damage. Last night we were forced to take some imaginary side, as if we were the Montague’s and Capulet’s. Maybe we’re simpler than that. Maybe we’re the Sharks and the Jets. I don’t know. I just know how utterly ridiculous this all seems and I also know that these stories always end in tragedy.
Last night, when the victorious side was announced, people actually cheered. What could they possibly be cheering for, I wondered. It seems to me that there are no winners here. It seems we’ve all lost something incredibly wonderful. What exactly is there to cheer about?
The whole experience woke me up feeling sad and disillusioned. Worse, I woke up wondering what alternatives there were for my youngest daughter’s remaining elementary years. I woke up grateful that my oldest daughter was ‘getting out.’ I woke up wanting our whole family to ‘get out.’
And then I met with some friends – old friends and new – and we laughed. We laughed at the ridiculous journey that this has taken us on. We laughed at ourselves, we laughed at others, we laughed and we shook our heads and we laughed some more. That was when I remembered that there is absolutely nowhere else that my family and I should be.