I'm almost done with the paper quilt project! Tomorrow morning I'll put on the final touches and deliver it to my daughter's 4th grade class.
Whenever I look at it, tears well up in my eyes. I'm such a sentimental fool, I know. But whenever I reach the end of a group project, I get a little sad.
My son Mack was a little sad today, too. His friend Jameson is moving to London for a few years, and the emotional implications were only realized today--- despite knowing about his imminent departure for at least a month.
I thought that it would be nice to make Jameson a book that documented their friendship. But the more I talked about it, the more withdrawn Mack became. When I started putting the book together, he left the room and went up to his bedroom. I found him there angrily throwing paper airplanes at his wall. When I asked him what was wrong, he told me that he was just in a bad mood and didn't know why. So I left him alone and returned to my work room where I finished making a simple blank book.
After dinner, I asked Dave to talk to Mack and see if he could cheer him up. Dave let Mack know that it's okay to miss his friend, and that London is not on another planet. He also reminded him that we were there just last year, and, hey, wouldn't it be nice to share what he knows about London with his friend? So this is what Mack wrote in the book:
"To Jameson,
These are the things you should remember:
The potato chips taste like meat.
Everybody has an accent.
If you find a green house with four windows that is the hotel I stayed in.
From Mack."
And then he included his snail mail address, his email address (yes, I know he's only 7 years old), and his skype address. Oh, and a photo of him hanging from a beam in our living room with the caption that reads, "Hang in there!"
Oh, Jameson. I think you have a friend for life. Please come back soon!