The boys went back to school this week, and my heart turned into an accordion.
I watched Hank head into the building, could almost hear his fingers cross. He wore a cargo sized pack on his back and wide open eyes, eager for all that will come next.
The big boys went the opposite direction, toward the middle school, undoubtedly greeted by a whole slew of wonderful adults ready to convey their unconditional faith.
All summer long the boys showed me how to tolerate a mess, how to share time and how to turn myself into an animoji dragon. They've taught me how to tell a joke, how to dance past bedtime, how to meld a hand of rummy. How to redefine productivity, that there is usually no reason to rush, the way it's better to wonder than worry.
I will miss learning with them most days, and so much unfinished summer business still looms.
But the boys are ready to walk in new words, to make big progress in so many small ways.
To first days and next days, to bustling mornings and busy brains, to the blessed weight of it all.
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