Bittersweet

My youngest daughter has been hanging on my every word, hovering like a nurse and crying. Daily.  I know everyone expects her to be the little nurse, and she is.  She is beyond her years in maturity.  We call her an old soul.  But today I asked her if she wanted me to re-enroll her in school for the last 4 days.  (She has been homeschooled most of the year)  She practically jumped at the chance.  I have to admit I was not surprised.  Cass has been dealing with very adult things all year and although homeschooling was a complete blessing to me and her, she had decided a week before I got diagnosed (or even scanned) that she wanted to go back to public school next year.  Today was her chance for the  escape pod. And she took it.

For me, it was like a sign of defeat, although she doesn't know that.  Like I am resigning to not being here for long.  But I know her going back tomorrow will provide her with a really strong dose of friends and other adults that do not have cancer.  For her this is a lifeline.  So with tears in my eyes I drove up to school to enroll her and submitted the paperwork.  We walked back to her favorite teacher and gave her the news.  Her teacher, of course, was happy to see her and was the perfect medicine for her. Cass beamed.

It was bittersweet.  This year of teaching her was my great honor.  Cass is a teacher's dream.  She is insightful, thoughtful and creative.  I wish I had the money to put that child in private school.  When I practically handed her over, I had this deep feeling of loss.  Homeschooling her was my deepest honor. I know it will mean a lot to her one day, like it does to me right now.