Wednesday, December 24, 2014

No hay dicha completa: The Christmas Show that Was!

No hay dicha completa. That's what my mom always said. It means that bliss is never complete. There is no such thing as everything lining up so you are completely happy. 

Last year around this time I wrote about the Christmas show that wasn't. You can read it here. In a nut shell, I wrote about how excited I was to have snagged a front seat in the middle of the auditorium which would surely position me to have a great view of my Dan performing. Well, what had happened was that Dan refused to get on stage and I was devastated. I got a clear, beautiful picture of Dan's class performing, sans Dan. This year I got a horrible seat and a blurry picture of a moment that was, for me, sheer bliss.  

A week ago,  I was so excited to be attending Dan's Winter Holiday Extravaganza with hubby. He rarely gets a day off and it just so happened that he was free the day of the show. It was a no brainer, we'd go together and have a great time!  We laughed and joked in the car on our way there and, although it was close to curtain time, we weren't worried. We managed to get there 10 minutes before it started, enough, in my mind, to still get decent seats. Hubby dropped me off so I could secure them while he parked. 

Well, it looked like a zoo when I got  there. As I was entering, the parent coordinator told me "it's crazy in there, it has never been this packed." My heart sank, "I'm going to end up all the way in the back and not be able to see Dan!" I thought to myself. Well it actually wasn't too far from the truth. Although I got two seats in the middle of the auditorium, they were pretty far back. It could have been worse but I wanted to be in the front! I felt a tantrum coming on.  

When Jon finally arrived, I signaled to him where I was but it was a tight squeeze and he preferred to stand in the back. So there I was sitting in the back, by myself. I couldn't even see Dan in his usual seating area. Then I began to wonder, is he even going to perform? 

Two days ago, I sent a message to the teacher in the communication book wondering whether he needed special clothes for the performance. She never responded. His teacher and I have been having some communication issues. A future post might read "the communication book that wasn't." Prior to this year, Daniel had the same teacher for two years in a row. I liked her, I was used to her, we communicated well. We had a system. This year it's different. I am not used to the way his current teacher communicates; through sheets, and class project announcements. She's allergic to the communication book. We had an uncomfortable teacher conference about it and ironed some things out but I wondered, did she not respond to my request because he was not even performing? 

Then it started. Thoughts began to run through my head and my mind became a dangerous neighborhood. I didn't have hubby next to me to calm me down, he's usually my sounding board, the voice of reason when it comes to my kids, because, when it comes to my boys, mama bear gets crazy. There I said it, as a feminist, I hate to admit that but it's true. Anyway, I texted him to try to have him get a hold of myself but the reception was poor and the texts kept coming back "message not deliverable." I guess we were having communication problems of our own. Then I went there in my mind, "It was on", I thought. I am not very confrontational but I told myself"if Dan doesn't perform, I am going to let that teacher have it!"  I might even go to someone above her and complain. She was going to hear what I had to say, she was gonna pay!" I felt like Richie Cunningham, all I had to do is add the word "bucko!" If you're too young for this reference, google it

Then it happened, the cutest little guy stepped on stage dressed in a Santa suit. He pranced and swayed back and forth his para keeping up with his rhythm. He truly was jolly and brought plenty of cheer, at least to my heart.  I managed to take one blurry, distant photo but decided to just watch, my  eyes fixed on him, holding the memory in my head. All was resolved and all were absolved. My Dan looked happy and that was all that mattered to me. 

After the show, I wanted to try to say hello to Dan, I wanted to congratulate him, for him to know I was there.  But it didn't seem like it would happen. We were blocked from all sides as people filed out and I thought that if I didn't get to see him it would have been okay. I had already had my miracle moment and I was content. I turned to hubby and told him "Dan is so far ahead, I don't think we will be able to catch up." Then I heard a voice say, "don't worry, I'll tell them to hold the line so you can say hi." It was his teacher, his current teacher. I heard her loud and clear, no miscommunication at all. I told her she didn't have to, that I didn't even know how he would react, that he might think I was going to take him home and I had to go to work and I didn't want him to cry...."What's wrong with me!" I thought, "the woman clearly wants to do something nice for you, just let her!"  She assured me it would be fine and that she would deal with the melt down if there was one. Her stock immediately rose in my eyes. We caught up, we hugged Dan really tight, told him how proud we where of him and how much we loved him. I was on cloud nine. Hubby and I walked back to the car holding hands, happy.   

So here I am, left with this blurry photo of a child, in the midst of many, dressed as Santa. It really could be any kid. If I told you it was a reindeer dressed as Santa, there was no way to disprove it. But I know it was Dan, he was on stage and was happy, I had a great communicative moment with his teacher, and I shared it all with the love of my life, even though he was all the way in the back. No hay dicha completa but at the end of that day, somehow, I did feel complete.  

Happy Holidays/Merry Christmas! 

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