I have turned in my keys, and my district identification badge. The last day already seems like a blur–the pouring rain, the fifth grade student throwing up gloriously in the very middle of the last day of school assembly, bringing the whole thing to a screeching halt as students scattered in every direction amid exclamations of “EEWW!”, the hugs and goodbyes . . .
A bewildered sense of relief has been hanging over me since then. Let’s consult the dream that I had last night to see how I’m really doing. No cellos in this dream. I was in the midst of a family gathering. All of Silas’s sisters seemed to be there, except I think they were young again, like when I first met the family. And we were getting into a car to go on an outing. My grandma Berg seemed to be there too (she died several years ago). Grandma Berg was fussing over some food for the gathering. Several of my students from school were there also. They looked older, as if I hadn’t seen them for years. And I was wearing a skirt, and braiding my hair in a sort of french braid around the back.
Hm. It sounds sort of like a party, doesn’t it. Oh yes, and someone was ordering pizza. I remember that now.
Aren’t subconsciouses wonderful? It’s so intriguing that our brains keep thinking things over when we’re asleep, but without our help. Or as Peter said once, dreams are like “all the stuff you’ve been thinking about during the day, just sort of mixing and bumping into each other.”
Yesterday Silas gave me permission to pack the cookbooks, so you know our move is very close now. Really just a week. Joseph has lined up friends to visit every day. I’ve been measuring things again, trying to visualize how we’re going to pack it into the moving truck. All pretense of trying to keep our house from looking full of boxes is now gone. It is full of boxes. Peter finished all his on-line classes, I should add. Yeah!
And I bought everyone flip-flops at Goodwill yesterday. Fresno, here we come!