Mixed Feelings
The students shuffle into room 301
Their excited chatter expands throughout
the room, drifting
toward the windows and
the bookshelves that hold all great ideas.
They’re
bright and beautiful as they share
their lives with me. Six hours a day of
learning to write together- which is really
just learning to live, grow, and
love
together. We don’t really care about the
definition of a noun but we care
a whole lot
about following dreams and understanding
the world.
But I no longer shuffle into room 301 as my
gaze drifts out
the clouded window up to
the familiar “A” that towers above Old
Main. I don't hear
endearing, identifiable
laughter as my favorite colleagues turned
best friends
report homework mishaps and
weekend plans. We used to spend hours
discussing
teaching strategies and fantastic
young adult novels. We didn't really care
about the definition of a verb but we cared
a whole lot about following dreams and
loving each other.
How is it that I crave the future while
whole heartedly
mourning the present
that all too quickly turns into the past?
Amazing writing. I've been thinking about your last paragraph all day. And also - how can I enjoy right now when it's so great and yet I know it is passing so fast...
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