Even the smallest changes in life take some time to get used to. A new haircut. A new furniture arrangement in your living rom. A new pet. A different keyboard or mouse for your computer. We've all done it -- gone to plunk ourselves down on a couch that's moved; hunted for the open-apple key on a PC keyboard; looked at ourselves in a mirror and done a double-take.
The big changes in life, no matter how much advance notice we have for them, take much longer to become reality. In December of last year I decided that I was leaving my job as the religious school director for our synagogue's religious school. Since then it has been a long process of transition, from announcing my decision to friends, family and coworkers to letting the congregation in on the news to being celebrated numerous times as the school year drew to a close.
There were tears of sadness, regret, relief and joy.
I kept thinking of this iconic last scene, from the Mary Tyler Moore show: here
But the real moment where change sinks in just arrived a few minutes ago. It is the eve of the first year of Sunday School for which I am not the director. I have not spent the past month frantically preparing for school's opening day. I will not get up at the crack of dawn to buy snacks, make coffee, and check every classroom for readiness.
School begins at 9:00 a.m. and I am planning on arriving with my children in tow promptly at 8:59. I will then proceed to skillfully avoid getting trapped into conversation with other parents and quietly disappear to spend three uninterrupted hours with my husband. We will brunch. We will ride our bikes.
Change will be sealed.
No comments:
Post a Comment