Change
I used to fear change. It all started in grade school. Once the newness wore off, I would start to feel comfortable and I would enjoy the routine. I enjoyed getting good at the games and talking to the cute girl that sat next to me in class. Sooner or later I’d realize that the year was almost over and I would have to go through the same cycle again next year. The material would change. My friends would get shuffled to the other class room. The cute girl would move a few seats away.
One year I’d be the quiet kid and the next year I’d be the outspoken class clown. I remember overhearing a few of my teachers talking once with my mother about how shy I was while my current teacher didn’t believe that I had a shy bone in my body. Apparently I fooled them but to me there was never a pattern until years later. Back then, I hated change and I wanted my class, teachers, and friends to be set in stone. It took me years to learn that you can’t hold on to those moments no matter how much we want to.
While I never looked forward to the first day of school, I always wanted the last day of school to last. On my bus route I was the last kid on the bus in the morning and the last kid to make it home at night. On the last day of school it seemed my friends were dropped off way too fast and I’d be left on the empty bus inevitably. I always wanted to enjoy every last minute of that last day but everyone eventually has to go home.
As a kid we never realize that the last day of school is really approaching until it arrives and we walk out of our classrooms for the last time. As adults these same feelings cycle through us with our jobs, homes, friends, relationships, and life. Sometimes it’s not as simple as knowing the last day of school is two weeks away nor would it matter if we knew. Sometimes it doesn’t dawn on us until we are the last kid on the bus.
