Why This Fall is Different
I can hardly believe that we are nearing the end of October. October
has always been one of my very favorite months, and I always look
forward to it. And I'm always really sad when it is over.
Last October was difficult. One of my dear friends lost her newborn child after just 36 hours on this earth. It was absolutely devastating. This past week was the one year mark of little Gwen's birth and journey to eternity with Jesus, and I can hardly believe it.
This October (and this fall in general) has been very hard for me. While I love teaching, I love my students, I love my school, and I love my new friends, my heart aches for what once was.
Last fall, I was picking fresh, ripe pears from trees just down the hill that my house was on. I made pear pie, and it was awesome.
Last fall, Matt and I had a house that we had made a home, and we had people over for dinner all the time. We had good friends, a great community, and we loved being able to share our home, our food, and our lives with them.
Last year, we could sit on the front porch of our home and look out across the river to the adjacent hills and watch the sunset paint the sky with brilliant colors and enjoy the peaceful quiet that life in the middle of nowhere brings.
Last year, we could walk from our house to any of our friends' houses in a matter of minutes.
Last year, we could walk from our house to our jobs in a matter of minutes.
Last year, our good friends got married and we were so excited about being newlyweds all together, sharing in that experience and learning together.
Last year, we didn't have any worries. Our house came with our jobs, and our expenses were low. We were able to save a lot of money.
This year is completely different.
We are still living with my parents. The good news is that we have found an apartment that we can afford and that we actually like, and we are moving in soon! But no place has really felt like HOME in a year. To me, our house at Camp Eagle still IS our home. I miss it terribly. I loved that house. Small, but perfect. Ours.
We had no friends until August. We now have three friends in this city, and all three are girls who teach with me at the school. We get along great, and they are so much fun! Matt enjoys hanging out with them, too, which is great. But we don't have any married friends. And we don't have any guy friends. I feel like we both need that, Matt more than me. Because we haven't had our own place...or any friends...we haven't had people over. Have you noticed we love having people over?
This year, instead of beautiful views, we have 1604 and I-10. We have highways and traffic and sirens and air planes.
I love my job now, but I also really loved the job I had then, too. You always knew how you were doing because the guests told you so. When you needed help or didn't quite know what to do, there was always someone who could give you some insight or a fantastic solution, because I worked on a team. I am the only science teacher for my grades, and am the only middle school teacher on the first floor. I'm pretty much on my own most of the time. And I never have any idea how I am doing. How do you even measure the success of a teacher?
No matter how hard we try not to think about it, there are reminders of our old life everywhere. The kids at my school all wear Camp Eagle shirts on spirit day...even some of the teachers, too. My facebook news feed is always filled with people talking about loving their jobs at camp, or loving their camp family, which just reminds me about how we were kicked out of that family. And, of course, the giant billboard they placed along 1604 that guarantees I will be reminded of Camp Eagle at least once every day, if not more, as it is on my way home from work and church.
Like I said. This fall has been so different for us. For some reason, this fall is almost as difficult as the first few months after losing our jobs. I've cried more this fall than I did during the summer. I dread the coming months, which will bring back memories of last Thanksgiving (saying over and over how thankful we were for our jobs and how much we loved them...); of decorating our house for our first Christmas together (we were so excited) and having to tear down all the decorations the next day because we were told we no longer had a home.
As time goes on, I realize that I don't know if this wound will ever fully heal.
Last October was difficult. One of my dear friends lost her newborn child after just 36 hours on this earth. It was absolutely devastating. This past week was the one year mark of little Gwen's birth and journey to eternity with Jesus, and I can hardly believe it.
This October (and this fall in general) has been very hard for me. While I love teaching, I love my students, I love my school, and I love my new friends, my heart aches for what once was.
Last fall, I was picking fresh, ripe pears from trees just down the hill that my house was on. I made pear pie, and it was awesome.
Last fall, Matt and I had a house that we had made a home, and we had people over for dinner all the time. We had good friends, a great community, and we loved being able to share our home, our food, and our lives with them.
Last year, we could sit on the front porch of our home and look out across the river to the adjacent hills and watch the sunset paint the sky with brilliant colors and enjoy the peaceful quiet that life in the middle of nowhere brings.
Last year, we could walk from our house to any of our friends' houses in a matter of minutes.
Last year, we could walk from our house to our jobs in a matter of minutes.
Last year, our good friends got married and we were so excited about being newlyweds all together, sharing in that experience and learning together.
Last year, we didn't have any worries. Our house came with our jobs, and our expenses were low. We were able to save a lot of money.
This year is completely different.
We are still living with my parents. The good news is that we have found an apartment that we can afford and that we actually like, and we are moving in soon! But no place has really felt like HOME in a year. To me, our house at Camp Eagle still IS our home. I miss it terribly. I loved that house. Small, but perfect. Ours.
We had no friends until August. We now have three friends in this city, and all three are girls who teach with me at the school. We get along great, and they are so much fun! Matt enjoys hanging out with them, too, which is great. But we don't have any married friends. And we don't have any guy friends. I feel like we both need that, Matt more than me. Because we haven't had our own place...or any friends...we haven't had people over. Have you noticed we love having people over?
This year, instead of beautiful views, we have 1604 and I-10. We have highways and traffic and sirens and air planes.
I love my job now, but I also really loved the job I had then, too. You always knew how you were doing because the guests told you so. When you needed help or didn't quite know what to do, there was always someone who could give you some insight or a fantastic solution, because I worked on a team. I am the only science teacher for my grades, and am the only middle school teacher on the first floor. I'm pretty much on my own most of the time. And I never have any idea how I am doing. How do you even measure the success of a teacher?
No matter how hard we try not to think about it, there are reminders of our old life everywhere. The kids at my school all wear Camp Eagle shirts on spirit day...even some of the teachers, too. My facebook news feed is always filled with people talking about loving their jobs at camp, or loving their camp family, which just reminds me about how we were kicked out of that family. And, of course, the giant billboard they placed along 1604 that guarantees I will be reminded of Camp Eagle at least once every day, if not more, as it is on my way home from work and church.
Like I said. This fall has been so different for us. For some reason, this fall is almost as difficult as the first few months after losing our jobs. I've cried more this fall than I did during the summer. I dread the coming months, which will bring back memories of last Thanksgiving (saying over and over how thankful we were for our jobs and how much we loved them...); of decorating our house for our first Christmas together (we were so excited) and having to tear down all the decorations the next day because we were told we no longer had a home.
As time goes on, I realize that I don't know if this wound will ever fully heal.
Comments
But, fall is my favorite season too. Do what you can to enjoy the last part of it now :)