Connor's first gifted resource teacher died yesterday. It's not a surprise. She's had end stage pancreatic cancer for 18 months now. She left DC to head back home for treatment. I still remember the last time Connor saw her. He knew she was retiring, but didn't know why. Ed plans to tell Connor the news tonight, but if he doesn't, I'll tell Connor the news tomorrow. So much for a little guy to hold - but I'm terribly afraid that if Ed or I don't tell him, someone else will. And Connor deserves more than that.
And a few nights ago, after Connor pulled out yet another tooth, he plainly told me he just didn't believe in magic any more. He told me he thought I was responsible for the tooth fairy. So I promised him I would not touch the tooth, and promptly walked downstairs and told Ed he was on for tooth fairy duty. Nothing was said in the morning, but Ed and I decided that maybe we ought to confirm the fact that the tooth fairy is not separate from us. It is us. We figured Connor would feel so grown up if we told him - and I'm pretty sure he'll keep the magic alive for Helen - who still walks carefully around mushrooms growing in the yard just in case the old grey gnome is hidden beneath them.
But how much can the world crumble in one day?
Maybe the news of the tooth fairy will wait.
And maybe there's a teeny tiny fairy out there who will visit our house tonight, and bring just a little magic inside to soothe our broken hearts. Because we could really use it.