Small Wins

The bright sun glares off my shades, flip flops slapping on the pavement, warm sun on my skin, no coat, all swagger as we head down the road. In front my boy scoots, joyously. Long blond hair flowing out behind him, curing round his ear and pooling in the collar of his pyjama top that almost passes for real clothes. Almost.

Who cares?! Blue camo clogs have touched the pavement for the first time in weeks, no socks and shoes for this kid, maybe not ever if he can help it. Socks and seams are the devil! and so what? We are out! The jubilation soundtrack in my mind. This kid who school broke, who hid under his bed and refused to leave. Who I have asked if he would like to maybe... offered to take him... proposed we might... leave the house today? Every day, for months on end, has finally said “yes”. 

And his smile is real and my relief is real. But as we enter the corner shop something in his eyes says this is tentative and risky; and something in my heart says everything will be alright now. Maybe. The start of the end. Metamorphosis. A new phase. Healing...  I’m getting ahead of myself.

We browse the bakery section and other people are shopping like this is just an ordinary thing that people do. “They must think we're like them?!”, I think. “Just 'popping in' for milk!” They haven't seen the build up, the progress, the bad days and the worse, the green shoots of recovery and the final "I guess that we could go". They have no fucking idea! We are the same, but different, you and I. 

You did not have to give up work to care for a child who could not cope on the conveyor belt of life. Who could not sit still, be quiet and do as everyone else does, without dangerously dimming their light. Which 4 months ago had almost gone out. It’s Can't not Won't I tell people. As if they might understand without having lived it. 

Or maybe you have lived it, or something similar or worse; and we are the same and you're thinking these thoughts too... After all who can tell? And I tell myself I need to be at peace with it anyway. We are on a journey my child and I, we just didn't know the destination when we started out.  Still, we were on this path all along. All along. Looking back I missed the signs, but we all felt the fork in the road too harshly. Peace will come. 

We approach the counter, freshly baked croissant in hand, a victory prize for the outing of the season, quite literally. Platinum, gold, silver and bronze! Today we have knocked it out of the park. Homerun kid. 

"Not in school today?" Asks the woman behind the till with a chipper smile.
My vision blurs, stomach clenches, I swallow a lump.
His eyes cast down, picking fingernails, tapping foot.
What a thing to ask? Does she not know what she's done? 

"No" I say "We home educate". 
I try a smile on my face, it feels awkward and forced. Not the real joy of 5 seconds ago.

We pay and leave. Stroll and glide home, quiet and thoughtful with the sun on our backs, the scooter wheels rumble on the pavement. Cars drive past, birds sing, flowers bloom, life goes on outside our house. "If you like we can buy another one tomorrow..." I say. "Or something else..." 

"Maybe."

Still. Today it finally happened. No one can take that away.