Jackets.

Yesterday while sitting in the hospital my mother told me a story about her and her "misfits."

It was a nice break from the heavy room.

...

My mother is a one-on-one aide for special education children. Right now she is placed with a little girl who is legally blind. Her daily tasks are to assist her with her reading, writing, and teaching her braille. Her kid, as I often call her students, is a little bit awkward and a little bit insecure. My mom's kids usually are though; a little bit awkward and a little bit insecure. How could you not be when you're stuck with a dorky lady all day. It's one thing being singled out when you're 9 or 10 and classified as "special education," but it's an entirely different thing when you get stuck with a dorky lady that has to sit next to you all day.

My mom doesn't have an easy job. Sometimes children can be cruel to one another...and to the dorky lady that has to sit next to the dorky blind girl....

Last year as a push to be healthy my mom started walking around the field every day at lunch with her snacks. She figured out that it's a little under two miles and a good way to get some exercise in because she was often too tired to do it when she got home. One day her kid decided to join her because she didn't have any other friends to sit with....a few days later another student joined, and then another...and another...

My mother now walks with about six students every lunch hour for a little under two miles and they all share their snacks and talk. What she's discovered is that all the children who have chosen to walk with her are all sort of the same; a little bit awkward and a little bit insecure. We've come to call her little group of walkers "the misfits."

Yesterday my mom happened to be wearing an old sweatshirt that belongs to my brother. My brother moved to Hawai'i about seven years ago and he forgot it the last time he came to visit. She misses him a lot. One of her misfits made a comment, "Mrs. AdriAnne, I really like your sweatshirt."

"Thank you, it was my son's, he forgot it. And I like to wear it because it makes me feel like he's hugging me."

He then said, "this is my dad's jacket!"

Another misfit chimed in, "this is my grandma's sweater." 

"and this is my mom's!" 

....and they went down the list until they all discovered that no one was wearing their own jackets. 

Yesterday at lunch, my mom and her misfits, who are all a little bit awkward and a little bit insecure, took their daily walk sharing their snacks being hugged by all of their family that they all seemed to miss just a little bit. 


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