While I was preoccupied with Sean, Savannah was hanging out a lot with her cousins. She began writing plays for them all to perform. I was thankful for her creativity and resilience, but I was jealous of it. I wanted to be swallowed up by fantasy, and live as a character in one of her plays. I didn't really care which one. I was not enjoying my role as a mother, much less one of those - "single mothers" but I knew I had made the right decision. Savannah was happy. She was no longer caught standing under the stream of insults passed between me and her father. All of the air around her was available to her. She had breathing room. She was blooming.
Savannah's entry into third grade at Mountain Brook Elementary appeared to be stress free. She took ownership of her right to be there even though she barely knew anyone. She was comfortable as long as she could doodle and play with her hand puppets - the Milos - in between her lessons and sometimes not. They were characters that were literally her hands. She developed them when she was six years old and continued to interact with them until the end of third grade. They were the equivalent to imaginary friends but they were visible for all to see. Savannah was visible too.
Drama at its best!
