End Of The Adventure

Oh I'm dying. Dying of a broken heart. The Exchange is gone, gone, gone out of my life. We put him on his flight home Saturday. His time with us was up and he had to go back to France. My life feels so empty and meaningless. How will I live without him?

There. I had to get that out of the way. The drama queen in me was itching to act up. But The Exchange has indeed left us. It was time for him to return to his real family. School starts in a week.

The Man said it feels like the end of an era. It does feel like the grand summer adventure is over. I don't know if The Boy has benefited from this summer's experience, but I've enjoyed every minute of The Exchange's stay with us. I am so grateful to have had this experience. I don't think The Man intended me to be the beneficiary of this exchange when he said yes to The Exchange's father.

This is what I know: we were enriched by this experience. How lucky we were that The Exchange and The Boy should have been so similar, yet complementarily different. We didn't get someone who was moody, into drugs and sex, slovenly, and uncommunicative. We got a perfect angel.

It was trying for The Boy to have a shadow for two months, especially the four weeks in Toronto. But he showed his mettle and emerged a gracious host. I think the main drawback for him was the camping in France. His resourcefulness was tested and he made a good experience out of a dull situation. I am still stunned he came back speaking French.

I was fortunate to have spent time with The Exchange, who evoked in me an appreciation of the precious and the potential for being. It's like being reminded that I have to embrace being in all its facets in order to appreciate the preciousness of beauty in all its aspects.

In sessions with Dr. Noggins, I puzzled about what seeing The Boy and The Exchange together has meant to me. It's a joyous unfolding to see these two boys explore their different languages and their personal commonality. It was their parents who facilitated the experience, with me being central to the process. All so unlike my own youth and the circumstances under which I left home.

So the crush aside, I am grateful to The Exchange for triggering several sessions of discussion with Dr. Noggins.

To use Kid2's metaphor, there is a string that attaches my heart to The Exchange's (and Kid2's and The Boy's) despite the ocean between us. It doesn't matter whether The Exchange is aware of this string. It matters that I know it's there, and that I send good will to The Exchange through this attachment.

So how did we spend our first day without The Exchange? Well, the first night, The Boy and I stayed up till 6 am waiting for The Exchange's phone call to say he's landed safely in Paris. We watched two seasons of Scrubs. Between episodes, I snoozed and learned to sing the Hawaiian rendition of Over The Rainbow. The Boy looked up chords and taught himself to play the ukelele. He can do Hey Jude and If You're Happy And You Know It. Now he takes the ukelele with him wherever he goes. He said at 6 am, "Mom, it's like the two of us had a party. It was fun hanging out with you."

The next day, The Man succumbed to the flu. The Boy and I slept in. No one stirred until 4 pm. That's because we had been invited to dinner at a friend's and we needed to get ready. How fortunate we were that the invitation was there to help us ease back into life without The Exchange.

It's still a mighty fine life.