It's been fascinating to watch myself fall apart as the first day of school has drawn closer. Because I didn't get all of my medical forms returned on time to Health Services, I have been on a medical hold at my school. This means I can't go to classes, or even access important information regarding them, until Health Services lifts this hold and gives me a slip of paper to show each of my instructors which indicates that I am not a health menace to the herd. I have cried a fair amount every day for the past week.
Of course, work has to also be stressful because, well, because! Because I perform at least five people's jobs, and because no one capable of taking over for me applied for work over the summer, despite all of the advertising we did to recruit someone, it has been impossible to find my replacement. Which means that I am up to my eyeballs in school-related tasks (and about to be attending five classes) while simultaneously managing the bakery (i.e. managing commercial accounts and vendor relations, baking full-time, and making deliveries) and training others to do some of the work I do. And since I perform a multitude of "unseen" tasks, which are almost impossible to tally, delegating my work-load is a daunting task. One that, it seems, I am going to be doing bit by bit.
Wouldn't you know it, I'm also traveling to California tomorrow, to attend the wedding of my longest-time and dearest friend who, after decades of single-mom-career-woman-supergoddesshood, has found her true love. I am honored to be included in her wedding bash and so, just as I am starting school and transitioning out of the work I've done for so many years, I am boarding a plane at 6 AM tomorrow and flying across the continent to make merry with many, and feeling pretty happy about it (even though it means I'll be up before even the worms, let alone the birds). Still, preparing to travel cross-country and be away for three nights has not exactly been my priority, so I have been feeling panicked about all that I need to get done.
And, let's not overlook that today happens to be my baby boy's fourteenth birthday! Have I planned a party? Decided on the perfect gift? Um. No. No I haven't. He just walked out the door with his buddy, off to his first day of 8th grade. Wow. He's several inches taller and quite a bit more slender and angular than he was on his first day of 7th grade; looking oh-so-like his father and every inch the young man. His summer was unspectacular, except for the fact that he demonstrated tremendous maturity and poise in the face of adversity at sleepover camp. He was ill-placed in a cabin full of boys much younger and less mature than he and got caught in the crossfire of their foolish choices. As he didn't stop any of it from happening, he was complicit and was placed "on contract," which means that he couldn't go anywhere in camp without a counselor present (yes, even the bathroom) and was quite close to being sent home. At that point, instead of lamenting his bad luck, he turned his frustration toward canoeing and, with a cabin mate, earned his first canoeing rating, his Tandem. He is now endowed with significant canoeing skills and, perhaps more importantly, knows that, most often, you've got to grow where you're planted. I have watched with wonder as my son has grown to young adulthood and feel so proud of the person that he is. Last night, he said, "I don't need a party, or presents. I just want to chill at home with you." Then he gave me a big hug and told me how much he loves me, which induced more tears.
Yesterday, I was at the end of my rope, feeling desperate and sorrowful that I wasn't able to start school when I was scheduled to, feeling cornered into getting a vaccine I didn't want to get for fear of it making me sick just as I'm preparing to travel, feeling overwhelmed by the amount of effort involved in performing the simplest tasks at work as it involved slowly showing others how to do it, feeling regretful that I wouldn't be able to properly celebrate my son's birthday with him. Today, I've decided that I'm going to drive down to my school, buy all of my books and supplies, pick up my parking permit, check in with my admissions counselor to thank her for all of her help and support, drop in on my instructors to introduce myself, and put everything into place for me to start classes next Tuesday. My medical hold will be lifted late this morning, so I could attend afternoon classes, but I'm going to pass. Instead, I'm going to get a present for my boy, make him a card and a little cake, get a pedicure (my one girly indulgence, I admit), then go home and pack my bag to ready for tomorrow's flight. Today, I have freed myself from the stress and the fear and the frustration.
Though change is the one constant, it's never easy, is it? As mentally prepared as I feel to make this change in my life, I'm still subject to all sorts of mixed emotions around it. I've cried more this week than I have in a while, even as wonderful things have happened. I started working with a physical therapist who is helping me make the next step in recovering from being assaulted. I celebrated a most special anniversary with a dear friend. I got to spend a couple of nights with the most adorable 11-month-old and his beautiful, wonderful Mama who just happens to be my beloved friend. It's been a great summer and I'm really happy to have the opportunity to embark on this new life path. And, sometimes, we've got to fall apart so that we can put ourselves back together again and maybe do it in a way that gives us even greater access to what matters most: joy.
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