Pat! Yes tell your daughter. They are looking for athletes and people who want to do something athletic and make friends. Yes technology has been a God-send. XX Vicky

Oh, isn’t that something, another connection we have! I love it! Thanks, Vicky. I’ll be sure to tell Carolyn. And yes, technology makes a huge difference ~ nothing like “the old days” of letters and the occasional long-distance phone call!

That was exquisite, Mr. Van Horn. A beautiful piece of writing from the heart. I thank you. <3

Some tears squirt out ‘I’ll be ok Dad….’ The reply came suddenly….’It’s not you I’m worried about…. ‘

There’s a big hole left there. But then came the homesickness, the calls about ‘so what do I do about….’, and that first ‘home for the holidays hug, complete with a happy sob….’ that breaks a guy down, because she’s your little girl again and you both know it.

Holiday time becomes syrup. Thick, sweet, full, so full a spoon will stand in it. You store it like fat for the winter hibernation that will soon arrive as you pack them back off. A little less traumatic, a lot more confident. They thrive, you learn to survive.

Spring rolls around, they return eager to be home (thankfully for me), and see home…. as home. A place they are from, belong, belong to, and perhaps recognize ‘as not so bad after all’. But like Snow Bells, Spring Break is soon over, as we wait for the full blossoming of the end of the school year for their return; like Geese, our Buzzards, and all our favorite song birds who ditch us for warmer climes…. their return is our reawakening, revival.

What arrives resembles more of an adult than that girlish girl that pushed off months ago. She’s done her own laundry, got herself off to classes while working a job, learned her way around;where to go; where NOT to go; chosen new friends who marvel at her ability to rattle off names of birds, trees, and even the sounds of ‘froggies’ and lots of other useless information she gathered aloft on that Crow’s Nest.

As there’s time the stories roll out. The juice that’s pressed from each anecdote becomes the syrup we store all summer for the fall whose colors won’t quite be as full; since the eyes of her ‘child’ aren’t here to gasp “Oh there’s my favorite tree!”

But we will notice it for her…. smile, and get lost in a memory, and remember a similar tone in our own parents voice. We suddenly understand where it came from. Love you Mom. Wish you were here. Love you Dad. Glad you are….. Best wishes Ms. Saxton.

Ah, so glad to hear, Chris! It echoes so much that I’ve heard of this great school ~ as well as the “good-bye’s” getting easier. Thank you!