When I graduated from Florida State with my BFA in Art, I was sad. It was the end of something and I knew it. I could feel it. I did not want it to be over. I have always been this way. I even formed an attachment to a phone from my childhood.
This week I had to say goodbye to the preschool four of my kids have attended. Even though this school year we no longer lived down the street we kept Penelope there because the preschool is just that good. But we're not sure what we will be doing when Juliet is preschool age, so I have said goodbye to Covenant Presbyterian Preschool in case this is the end for us. Endings are no fun!
A friend, Carl, that I graduated with from art school felt the same. We talked about how it was a little depressing when it should feel pretty good, graduating college and all. He wrote on the wall in the studio, "It's not an end it's a beginning." We had talked about this too. I tried to get excited for the beginning. It was hard, but the truth can be hard.
It truly was a beginning for me. A month or so later, I got engaged.
And the older I get, the more of these little life endings I'm forced to live through. It can make me feel old and tired. I have been blessed with a heavenly perspective on these things, but at times it's hard to grasp it. I am only human. And this human thinks endings suck.
So I'm going to miss preschool. Sometimes I pick up my near eight year old girl and tell her how I'm going to be sad when I can't pick her up anymore. Today the neighbor who lives behind us called me to tell me his wife of over 60 years passed away last night. And the children feel the weight of an ending too. Cash remarked sadly, "Now he is all alone." Endings are hard.
But it's just preschool after all. We can visit. It's not the end of the world. It's the beginning of something else. Right? Only now I have stretch marks and gray hairs peeking through and children I can't pick up anymore. The whole thing hits you pretty hard sometimes.
And just one more thing. When did my blog go from hilarious descriptions of poopy diapers to melancholy ramblings about life changes?