Closure without closure

July was one strange month.  Trump took the Republican party in a hail of warped reasonings.  ISIS types murdered a twelve-year-old boy and, of course, posted the video.  There were other horrors, but I won't catalogue them.  Surely you've been following the news.

After some glitches in the journey (younger daughter's horoscope predicted as much - no, really), the Resident Fan Boy left me at a last-minute house-sit, and, in the company of younger daughter, arrived back in Ottawa to discover that her school, the one she's been attending since 2009, has closed.  Younger daughter has completed her provincial requirements, but the plan was to send her part-time for work experience which had been deferred, due to last year's anxiety crisis.

This leaves us hanging.  We're not devastated, exactly. I've had some doubts as to what daughter was getting out of school recently, but this is a closure -- without closure. The road ahead has suddenly developed a fork.

I'm not in despair.  Despair is a luxury.  I'm more baffled with dull surprise.

Given what was going on in this brutal July, it would be churlish to feel sorry for ourselves.  We have resources, even if accessing them seems a bit daunting.  Younger daughter, battling anxiety, is sometimes belligerent, but never violent.  We will look for a way forward.

Odd.  When the RFB and I met with the teachers three months ago to plan younger daughter's coming year, I never dreamt I was seeing the school for the last time.

Seven years of younger daughter's life and . . . gone.

No goodbye.