Come along about this time of the year, I used to start making some pretty rash and crude statements to myself.

And, if you would have asked me then what I thought of my statements, I might not have told you out loud, but I would have said quietly to myself, that what I thought was insightful, maybe even something others could live by if they wanted to.

Because, about this time of the year is when everything that was normal up to this point starts shaking loose. 

It still does.

And I cynically chuckled at it. 

Because it seemed so needless.

One, or several girls would suddenly be packing like mad, making lesson plans in nothing short of a panic, and generally loading house and home into the car.

After which, they trundled off into the unknown, to strange places and unfamiliar faces.

Once arrived they sequestered themselves in newly painted classrooms and began the laborious process of hanging words (previously cut out of colored paper in the mad rush at home) on the wall, and setting plants and string lights here and there.

The plants and string lights, having been unable to fit into the car of the girl so recently quitting home, made the journey in the parent’s vehicle.  Said parents, of course being the supportive parents that they are, never complained about the upset in plans and life.

And then, once all had arrived in the new place, with the unfamiliar faces, word started floating up to us from home that the new teachers were arriving back home.

Word had it, that they arrived in cars so loaded down that the rearview mirror was scarcely and option.  And, from what I gathered, their own parents trailed in behind them with the leftover plants and string lights that didn’t fit into the first vehicle. 

And, upon more information gathering, I found that the girls arriving were very similar in age and temperament as those who so recently had uprooted themselves from home and family.

So. 

If you would have asked me, some years ago, as to my insightful meditations, I would have been quick to supply you with what I felt was the lacking piece in the puzzle.

I would have told you it all could have worked just fine without the fruit basket upset.

I would have said that, then.

But I wouldn’t say that, today.

Today, I would advocate for the fruit basket upset.

Even though it tears at this crusty old dad.

Even though it means the sweet daughter won’t be there in the evenings to have squirt water bottle fights with.  Or, if Mama J isn’t watching, a towel snap or two.

Even though it means that Mama J and I uproot ourselves and transport string lights and plants to foreign sounding places.

Because I see the value in it today. 

I see that life can be so much better lived, when one has more inputs to go by.

I see that folks, generally, are kindhearted and gentle, just like the folks are back at home, and I know the sweet daughter will be safe with them.

I know that if she needs it, she can find a dad and mom to fill in for the time being, even if they don’t have squirt water bottles. 

And while I know that the house will be a bit quieter; I also know when the daughter comes home, she’ll be that much the better for having found her place among these rolling corn fields and friendly South Dakota folk and the even friendlier South Dakota flies.

I also know that I need to get back home; because there are some new folks who just moved in who just may need a Dad and Mom to hang around with and help with the extra plants and string lights.