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Norbu's bus person didn't show up AGAIN. She didn't even call AGAIN. How is it that someone so irresponsible has been placed in charge of an emotionally disturbed eight year old boy? I shouldn't say she's irresponsible, but she is behaving irresponsibly. She has a sick child of her own, an asmthatic baby of less than a year, so perhaps her personal responsibilities pull her away from those that she is employed to do. I understand, I really do, but Norbu's missing school on account of her not showing up is a violation of his legal right to education. I phoned the school and told them that if they didn't have someone new by tomorrow that I was going to plant myself at the offices of the powers that be here in the city until what was supposed to be the privilege of his having a personal aide on the bus is stricken from his IEP (individualized education plan).
In terms of actual disturbances, Norbu's been doing very well as of late. He was difficult on Monday but didn't have any outbursts or temper tantrums and that's been the only challenging day in the past week and a half. I think he's getting back on track. It would behoove me, however, to be prepared for more challenges in the future, just in case.
I've been making progress with letting go of Padma, which I'm trying to view as an act of generosity. A fellow broken-hearted person sent me a message reporting that they've just found out that the person they just broke up with has a brain tumor. As recently as three days ago I would have taken this as more evidence that Padma and I shouldn't give up, that life is too short. Instead I'm just grateful that he's well and that he's still in my life for the time being. For the moment, I am satisfied. In this exact moment, in this exact and precise here and now, I don't long for him. I could drum it up if I allowed myself to contemplate it too long. I can feel the bottoms of my eyes swell and feel the pain in my face when I think about missing him, even right now as I type this entry. However, I'm letting it go. I want to let it go in a way that I didn't want to before.
Over the weekend I realized that I wanted Padma to break me. I wanted to prod him into saying something stern and final, something that would not only indicate to me that there was no going back but something that would snap something inside me so that I wouldn't ever want to go back. Padma refused to play along. He's always been the stubborn type. I think, though, that his determination to stick to his own story, to his own interpretation of the events that have transpired between us and could transpire between us in the future, did help. His consistency was helpful in its own way.
I'm tired of all of this. Of broken hearts and depression and sickness and finances. Of loneliness and uncertainty and dust and dog hair collecting along the boundaries of every room only to flutter away to another nook and cranny as I chase it around with my feeble broom. I'm tired of misery and angst. I'm not open to you today, misery. Sunshine and rainbows and gratitude and joy and nurturing and love, you are welcome to come in.