Every Friday we unite for five minutes. Only five minutes, that's all we get, that's all we have. And then, right where we are, no edits or second-thoughts, we publish those words. This week, we write on last.
Go.
It's my last two months of a 20-year career. It's my last chance to turn around and take it all back and tell them I just want to stay because I love my job. Because I love my work. Because I love what I do. Because, despite how I feel and how I am being made to feel, I am good at this. I belonged here. This was my home and as much as I sacrificed and did for them, this job made me.
It's my last two months of not having to depend on my business for my living. It's my last chance to say we can't do this after all, I don't know what we were thinking but I was wrong and I'm sorry and I take it all back. Because it's my last two months of being secure and now it's all me.
It's my last two months of holding down both jobs, doing two really big things at the same exact time while still trying to be a decent mom, bride, friend, person...and still hold on to who I am.
It's my last two months to dream and really think and plan out what I want it all to look like now. What I am going to spend my energy on, what I am going to eliminate. What I am going to have to walk away from. What I am going to be able to fully embrace.
It's my last two months and I am having a lot of feelings. I am on this roller-coaster of emotions and there has been a lot of crying, a lot of overthinking, a lot of should haves, a lot of fear, a lot of lasts. My lasts.
Stop.
Oh, boy! It sounds like you have a lot on your plate right now. May God guide and comfort you as you go through this transition. The older I get, the harder transitions become.
It sounds gut-wrenching. But, you are amazing for holding all that together for so long.
I never thought t'would all be done,
never dreamed that it could day,
and that the bright days all would run
'round some lost and hidden bend.
I never thought I would be surplus
to the needs of wider life,
to the classroom and the circus,
to the shop floor, to my wife.
I cannot now complete the race;
my running shoes are out of style,
and I have to turn and face
the green walls of my final mile.
I've lost so much; the coming end
is not unlike a waiting friend.