this time last year

The hallway previously used for pacing up and down.

This time last year it felt hard to breathe.
Sending our big boy, the Batsman, off to primary school after 3 long years of autism early intervention work and incredible closeness felt like having a limb removed.

This time last year I watched the clock.
I paced.
I phoned friends for support.
I obsessed and worried.
I was a pain in the arse to live with and be around.
I slept poorly.
I drove past the school to see if I could glimpse him in the playground.
I cried.
I ate for comfort.
It wasn't my finest hour but it was part of what it took for me to let go of him a little, hand him over to others at his school and trust that they and he could make his prep year happen together. And they did just that. I was part of it, sure, but last year was the first time I'd had to surrender full control of supporting him and helping him learn and being there when it was hard.

What a difference a year makes.
There have been no tears from anyone and very little worrying.
I have largely sat back and marveled at him stepping back to school and grade one like the most natural thing in the world. He is truly amazing.

Today I sat in a cafe for almost two hours with a friend who is close to my heart. We didn't really have a care in the world. We weren't watching the clock. We lingered over our lunch and our coffee. It was nothing at all like "this time last year". It was great.

And it feels pretty amazing to have reached this place, at least for now.