The countdown to the first day of school begins today; and no, not the relief and excitement that most of you parents feel at the knowledge that the dreaded summer break is over and your rug-rats will resume being someone else’s problem in a few short days. Nope, my excitement is because MY summer break is over; school starts for me on Thursday!
Oh…some of you do not know I am a student. Oops, sorry; yes I am. And, I will be attending Hunter College this fall. For the past year and one half, I have been reacquainting myself with the learning process at BMCC; and I have had a blast! It turns out, I am a pretty good student; and, according to my daughter, also a nerd J
Where do I start? Okay…I can go way back or just a little back; and, because I do not want to take up too much of your valuable time, I opt to take you on the shorter journey with me. A little over two years ago, everything I thought I knew about life, age and possibilities changed forever. Has “life” showed you yet how arrogant we sometimes are in our thinking that we not only have the answers, but that we control shit? No? Well, consider yourself lucky; but wait, it will. If yes; then, you know first-hand what I mean.
I woke up one day pregnant. Yes, that is exactly how it happened! One glorious day, I woke up and I was pregnant! Not even with my ability to express myself can I begin to share with you all my disbelief and elation; I was ecstatic; and so was he! One short month later, our world crashed around us when our son left as quietly as he appeared; I miscarried. My devastation and our demise as a couple were as complete as our prior elation had been.
Forgive me…I still cannot articulate too much of this.
School. It’s how I started this narrative. It relates. When something significant happens in one’s life – whether good or bad – it has a way of shifting one’s reality and consequently, all decisions. My decision to go to college was not as a result of losing our son; that decision was made before he visited. But, that loss has, I believe, shaped and fashioned the kind of student I am. You see, even as I spend quite a bit of time laughing at myself and my shenanigans, I simultaneously take my life extremely seriously; and protect it with mama-bear fierceness!
There is a “space” to fill; and in that “space”, I pour all the knowledge and experiences that an education at my age offers me. At the end of my formal education, I will have attained my PhD in Psychology (one million years from now; but hey, will be spending those million years anyway); but, in part because of my educational path and, because my God is a great God, in every classroom I have sat in, I have found a bit here, a morsel there, that slowly stitch together to bring, if not peace, pieces of understanding and healing.
Please forgive me if this post lacks (what I hope is) its usual flow; this one is “ripped from MY headlines”. And, I am now in tears. Okay – I cannot wait for school to start. A little over two years ago, the woman I was changed into the woman I now am. This woman is an avid student with an unquenchable thirst for knowledge and understanding. Before, before, my desire was to get an education so that I can get the credentials. Now, I still desire those; they are necessary to fulfill the work I must do (borne out of yet another life-altering moment; remember?); but now, my additional motivation is an education in myself.
For me, there is a humbling that occurs in a classroom; especially when seated with fellow students and being lectured by professors who are younger than I. I am stripped bare. I both know a lot and nothing. In class, all my parts exist – mother (of two), daughter, sister, aunt, friend, lover, god-mother, employee, boss, survivor, shit, now blogger. All of it. And, it is through all of it that I am confident that I will successfully find a way to run the exquisite thread that will seamlessly tie together all that is needed to bring forth the woman that I am determined will make a difference in her way, some day.
To my daughter Aneesa on her educational and womanly journeys. Good luck sweetheart.
To my little boy who, even though he visited very briefly, changed a lot. Thank you my love.
To us; and all the bits and pieces we each carry with us on life’s amazing journey. Rock on.
See you in the hallways…