At Loose Ends

It started on Monday, when I woke up at the same time I always do. I did the same things I always do first thing in the morning. I got dressed in my "summer wardrobe"--running shorts and a t-shirt. Started the 40 minute process of rousing teens on a summer morning.

And I felt out of sorts. Like there was something really important I was supposed to be doing that I had forgotten.

And it hit me. All of my colleagues at the school I've worked for for the past six years woke up early on Monday. They dressed in their "school wardrobe." They drove to our school building (some of them headed out before dawn) and were sitting in beginning of the year meetings.

And I didn't. I wasn't.

For the first time in seven years, I am not gearing up to help families start another year of the joys and challenges of schooling at home.

For the first time in fifteen years, I am not gearing up to start a school year where I teach AT ALL. My own learners, or anyone else's.

This is a really uncomfortable feeling for me.

Yesterday, I stopped by my (and I hate to even write this) "old" school. I dropped some things off. I got to visit with some dear, amazing people that I have no idea when I'll ever see again. I held it together until I pulled out of the parking lot to leave. Then I ugly cried.

And today.

School is starting here in the little hamlet where I will reside for one more week.

Facebook is full of pictures of the excited faces of my friends' kids with their new clothes and new backpacks. Looking so much older than this time last year.

And my kids aren't joining them.

And while this makes me feel like a spectator and a little left out, my kids are loving the fact that they are still on summer vacation. They won't be so happy when their Midwest friends are out in May next year and they're still trudging to school in June.

But it really seems as though there is nothing for me to do.

Our house is sold, for all intents and purposes.

We have a contract on a house where we're moving.

I'm just marking time.

And I have absolutely no vision at all for what my purpose is going to be in our new place.

Except to try to survive and help everyone else do the same.