So we're in a homeschool group that meets every week, each Thursday in a different park, to hang out. The group has been going on for close to 30 years. Which is a little staggering. A 30 year old homeschool group? Well, on the other hand, my family has been homeschooling for, in a way, almost 14 years. When I think of it like that, its seems possible the movement has been large enough long enough to have a group this old. We are enormously lucky to be here in this group at this time. Just Insanely Lucky. Such things hardly even exist in other cities, in other states.

In the summer our group often meets at the river, at an ancient ford. So the ford is obviously wide and shallow and well traveled. Up river 10 yards, there is a deep pool, maybe a quarter of an acre, maybe 7 feet deep when there has been decent rain.  Another 10 yards up river on the other side of the pool is the straights, narrowing into a small rocky basin that catches a 3 foot water fall.  All surrounded by boulders and woods and trails. Which is nearly as rare and beautiful as our homeschooling group.

The water is brackish and muddled in the best of seasons. That's the nature of river water down south. And we have all the lively creatures, including Copperheads, that live in such places.

The ford works for a lot of homeschooling families. The babies play in the shallows, the bigger kids swim out, the biggest kids range, the mothers can stand in the water or sit nearby and see most of the children.  Yet, a river in this area is dangerous on the best of days. Drowning is a silent event, the water is not clear, the current, the rocks, inexperienced swimmers, snakes, its enough to unnerve some mothers. Some families skip river days. Some mothers show up but hang there in a state of nearly quivering anxiety the whole time, chatting with other mothers but obsessively checking on the children.

(Ahem) that would be me, in the olden days when my kids were little. Like, last week. Today was the first river day where I did more chatting, and even knitting, than worrying. The kids were in the middle of the pool swimming with their friends for hours. I checked on them once or twice. And I let go. I relaxed.

This from the woman who was there just last weekend and swam through that same pool while a copperhead as thick as my wrist swam for the further shore. My husband and I watched it go noting only how its true, they do swim on top of the water.

Much later the kids came to ask if it was alright if they went up to the water fall. And I SAID YES. This had previously been forbidden without adult supervision. 15 minutes later I hiked up to check on them. I ended up climbing down and getting in the water. I tried to be respectfully distant. But everyone knew I was checking on them.

Here's the thing, though. They were fine. They really didn't need me up there. They are big now. I sat in the pull and bubbling flow of the current through the rocks and tried to let the truth of it really sink into my skin. The kids are growing up.