I'm beginning to realize that my emotions are (duh!) unpredictable: the events I anticipate will cause me tears rarely do, but I am often surprised by the things that cause my eyes to well. Case in point, Wednesday, May 25, 2011....
It's been marked on the calendar for over a year. My class of four-year-olds is graduating to Kindergarten.
I have known all year that this is the last class of preschoolers I will teach for a while. My eleven year teaching streak is coming to an end, and I have savored every moment of this last year. (On a side note: I am so very grateful to my husband that I have had over a year to prepare myself to move to NYC. We know one couple who made the move with less than a month's notice! I'm glad my husband knows me well enough to know that I couldn't swing that.)
But I wasn't just saying "goodbye" to my students and their parents, or just to my career. I was also bidding farewell to the greatest group of teachers I have ever known.
I only thought to take a picture with my fellow four-year-old teachers. But the entire staff is truly amazing!
These ladies are dedicated, creative teachers who truly love their students. But they are also the most generous and thoughtful group of women I have ever known. They have loved me (and Josh) well over the last two years. Leaving the staff of Riverchase Day School is honestly one of the things I am grieving the most.
So now that I've said all these sappy things about what a monumental day it was, I should have been prepared for a few tears. But I really felt like I would be fine. I felt very grateful for these experiences and very excited to be closing this chapter of my life and excited to move ahead. I even bragged to a fellow teacher on the way in to school that morning that I wasn't going to cry today.
Fast forward ten minutes (yes, only ten minutes!): I am sobbing in staff meeting as the teachers pray and thank God for the friendships we share. A couple of hours later, my administrator and I share a moment in the kitchen expressing our gratitude to one another. Later, as my students are lined up outside the sanctuary and "Pomp and Circumstance" begins to play, I tearfully tell them what a privilege it has been to be their teacher and how proud I am of their accomplishments this year. (My speech was briefly interrupted by one student asking, "Can we just go to the playground now?") My point is: I was a basket case!
Later that evening, I endured another goodbye to another group of amazing women who have poured into my life.
Just a small sampling of the women who participated in this group
These ladies are fellow church planters' wives and wives of the Senior Leadership Team at The Church at Brook Hills. It has been my privilege to study the Word, share triumphs and struggles, serve alongside, and pray with and for these ladies during Josh's Church Planting Residency at Brook Hills. These women have encouraged me and challenged me and passed me tissues as I sob (another unexpected surge of emotions!). I thank God for the influence of these women in my life.
So as I drove home from church that evening, completely fried emotionally, it occurred to me that this day was the first time I felt sad about leaving Birmingham. I'm so excited about the adventure before us, although I know there will be some difficult adjustments. I have anxiously anticipated closing the current chapter of my life and opening the NYC chapter. But now that the final pages of the current chapter are turning, I feel the weight of it in my heart.
I want to continue savoring every moment with every friend, loved one, and familiar place for the time we have left in Birmingham. And I think part of savoring includes acknowledging the sadness.
Not regret. Not apprehension. But just a twinge of sadness.
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