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photo credit: Jason McCord |
The first time I remember suffering from post-party sadness was pickup day (and the days that followed) at sleep away camp. The ups and downs of eight weeks at Camp Ramah had ended and adjusting to being home was not easy.
That was when I was 13. I continued to leave home every summer after that. As hard as it was to come home, it was always worth it.
At 24 I threw myself a huge multi-day party. The last person who left was my best friend from camp. We recapped it all and I cried. How could it already be over?
My wedding. Daughter's Bat Mitzvah.
Son's Bar Mitzvah was this Labor Day weekend. My severe case of post-Bar Mitzvah blues began the first day of school. Not easy.
I don't do well with endings and goodbyes.
June 2018: I meet an illustrator at an event in NOLA. He tells me he is working on a book about a woman who canoes down the Hudson River. I tell him I live and work in Castleton-on-Hudson. Then and there I decide that he will celebrate that book with us ON the Hudson. Sixteen months later, Elisha Cooper is reading RIVER aloud with the banks of the Hudson behind him.
That was Thursday.
You can only imagine the fog I was in yesterday walking the halls now with only the memories of his visit alive.
Elisha sat in a canoe in the middle of the gymnasium while first graders sang and fifth graders book talked all of his books. Reading teacher, Mrs. Reed hired a banjo player and our tuba-playing-band-teacher to accompany our fifth graders while they sang a Pete Seeger song about the river. Elisha rowed his boat ashore. The rain poured down outside.
We pulled out the red carpet for him when he spoke at a special K-2 assembly.
Then we donned our raincoats, boarded the buses and headed to the river. Elisha insisted we squeeze into the smaller pavilion on the river and I am glad we did. The kids complained. They were cranky. It was cold. Some were not dressed properly. The rain was steady. A boat sailed by. It was amazing. We will always remember.
The day was half way over and I was already beginning to feel sad. I don't do well with even
thinking about endings and goodbyes.
We returned to our warm school and sketched with Elisha in the art room and wrote poems in the library.
The finale was sitting in the common area observing Elisha paint. Mrs. Reed returned with her guitar and we sang. For some that was their favorite part of the day. For others it was the park. And some loved being taught tips from an award winning illustrator. For me? The whole package.
How did the woman canoeist feel when she began her journey? During? When her adventure was over? Sixteen months ago our journey was imagined. Thursday it happened. Now it is an incredible, unforgettable memory. "Don't be sad." Elisha comforted me as I walked him to his car. I'm trying not to but I just don't do well with endings and goodbyes.