Babysitter--Goodbye

Our sitter worked her last day with us. We ended her last day with a nice meal, although this year my son picked a loud restaurant that serves Mexican fare. She will get on an early morning ferry, heading to Logan for her final destination. It was a sad day for us all, as it is the signal of another summer's end. During these past three summers, she has become my 'summer daughter,' another child I care for when I'm here. When my husband is in the city, the three of us--my son, sitter, and me--become this family unit, doing things, eating meals, sharing stories and soaking up experiences of this island.

Watching her grow up has been wondrous for me to witness, a sneak peak into what is ahead for me with my son. She's more adult now than ever, feeling her way around the specter of who she may become. Our conversations reveal her desire to experience a world beyond the strictures imposed by parents, religion, and friends. Her need to explore is as it should be for someone her age. Her questions reveal her intellectual curiosity, characteristics which will keep her steady in turbulent waters.

After our dinner, we came home to give her some more time with my son. I could hear them giggling in his room, the drift of words floating down to me every so often. Too soon, we were all in my car, her load of clean clothes in a trash bag, her gift from us clutched in her hands, as we drove the short distance to the apartment she had shared with her cousin. We drove her up to a row of apartments that had seen better days, if they had ever seen them at all. My concern must have been written all over my face as I watched her searching for the keys among a small clump of bushes outside the door.

She walked over for our final farewell, her eyes watery. I hugged her tightly as we said something about talking soon. My son wrapped his arms around her neck, pleading with her to stay with him. An overwhelming wistfulness wrapped around me in a tight embrace. It seems our time now is about farewells, each of us saying goodbye to our past and those relationships of our previous life.

I drove away, noticing the beauty of the lavender sky as the setting sun revealed itself among the clouds that had lingered during the day. I drove down familiar country roads, the car reaching a small hill, where I glimpsed the blue waters of the Sound over the horizon. My son and I were quiet as we entered our house. Our wistfulness seemed to permeate from the walls of this house, as if it, too, knew that our season had come to another end. Sleep was fitful, awaking finally to the rustle of trees and the sun's filter through the tufts of clouds. Somehow the wistfulness of the night before seems to have evaporated, leaving behind a quiet. Another summer has been enjoyed, the laziness of sun soaked days now just a part of the cascade of pictures from this beautiful place.