Now

I wear a lot of pink. Not the brand necessarily, although given my discount and love of yoga pants (they improve my butt faster than squats and are more affordable than William Rasts) it is not unusual for me to be advertising PINK somewhere on my body, or on the bag I am carrying, or the hoodie I am about to put on...you get the idea. Sometimes, actually often, I even wear pink PINK. Ask me my favourite colour and I will tell you it's yellow, although when I wear it people often ask when I was diagnosed with jaundice. So I don't wear yellow, I wear pink. I don't know when I started accumulating so much pink in my wardrobe, my trainers (those are sneakers, I am also rereading Harry Potter, so be prepared most of this blog will be written in the minimal British slang I know) all I know is now it is my favourite colour to wear.

Always remember...

Two years ago I wrote a blog, one of my first, about teaching our children about 9/11 (it's called Our Job if you want to read it) because many of our kids are too young to remember the tragedy vividly-or at all. I don't know that I have much more to add or say, my feelings about our roles as parents certainly haven't changed in the two years that have passed. But, as a person, I am a much different person now. And much like our country is much different now than it was before that terrible terrorist attack, I think tragedy is what has changed me.
If you are a regular reader of this blog (and you know you are, Mom. Bless you) then you have read my entries about Steeler Seaburn, who was probably my favourite student I ever had, and how shattered I was by his death 17 months ago. As I prepare to work at the second annual Steefest-the large fundraiser for the scholarship fund founded in his memory- on Saturday, I am still sometimes dumbfounded that this is real. That he is really gone. I still feel that way when I take him Arnie Palmers-like I used to at school-at the cemetery and see his headstone. How can this be real? Yet it is. And so much has changed in those 17 short months, and so much of it is connected with Steeler.

Now, I consider his mom, Genny, one of my best friends. I talk to her often, not just a few times a year. And not just for scholarship events, but as a friend-for parenting advice, funny stories or just those times you need a friend. She's probably the strongest person I've ever met, and one of the funniest and most generous. Her son was very much like her, I see that now. His aunts are friends of mine. Now, I have all these friends when I go to football games, or other Willard events, and I don't sit alone or duck my head any more. There are all of these wonderful people in my life Steeler left me with.
Now my son is a wrestler like Steeler was. He loves wrestling, and it has meant a lot of learning for me in a short amount of time. At times, it has brought that grief back to the surface because my wrestling connection was always Steeler. The day of Aaron's first wrestling match I cried all the way there, I cried for the questions I had with no Steeler to answer, and I cried because I knew I needed to make this wrestling season about the son I had, not the boy who I lost. And I did, helped by this community of other wrestling parents (Genny among them) who answered my questions, cheered for my son, and pitched in when this single mom needed an extra hand. But there are still moments when I see my son in his pink socks and hear his hilarious comments, movie quotes, or Daniel Tosh jokes and that hole in my heart both fills a little and hurts a little.
Now I am back in the classroom, somewhere I swore I would never be. I am substitute teaching while waiting to hear my nursing school fate. And I am enjoying it, although I have already met kids who I know I could easily love. As a teacher, that was what motivated me-I loved kids and I wanted to help them. I am different now. I have seen kids devastated and been powerless to help, I have lost one and been shattered. I don't want to experience that again, so I like my distance now. It is why I am glad I am only the substitute. It is one of the reasons why I will make a good nurse, but why my teaching days are probably best behind me.
Now, after work I hurry home to my kids instead of making plans with my friends. I am a better mother now. Now, I squeeze our tight budget a little tighter instead of taking the shift that means I have to miss the band competition, the wrestling tournament, or even not be able to keep an eye on the homework. Now I am rereading Harry Potter in my spare time, turning off the tv and ignoring Twitter or Facebook. Now I understand that life is short and precious. Now, I have this wrestling community of family and friends who I am not afraid to ask for help if we need it.
Tragedy does not define us-just as 9/11 did not define us as a country of victims. Tragedy does change us, it makes us stronger sometimes. It makes us see our priorities, it can teach us lessons and bring us closer. So now, as I put on another pink outfit (pink was Steeler's colour, he wore it well) and say a prayer for 9/11, I am thankful for the strength and change I see in my life.