Oh, my God. I breathe. I just breathe and take it all in. It is the last day of school. Just a mere few hours ago, I stood at the curb outside the school waving the buses away for the last time with the familiar, itchy blue pom-poms. I watched those buses leave and heard among the din of shouts and motors faint cries of “Ms. Parks!” and simply smiled serenely. What those kids don’t know is this is the last time they will ever see me.
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And as I sit in my lovely home with the sun streaming, writing my thoughts out to remember on this inimitable day even as I itch to streak away on a celebratory run, I can only breathe. I am struck still and speechless by the place and time I am occupying right now.
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Today was the last time I will ever have to enter a classroom and prepare to teach a gaggle of children. The last time I had to count down for their attention. The last time I have to pretend I want nothing more than to stand here surrounded by other people’s children.
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Why is it the last time? Why am I not just on three-month parole until the start of a new year in September? Because my dream came true. I fell in love with a man who fell in love with me, who asked me to marry him after only a few months of dating as I dreamed of all those months ago. Everybody said we couldn’t throw together a decent wedding in only a few month’s time, but I knew we could, and sure enough the Chrysler Museum just happened to have one opening in September, the only opening they had for several months on either side of it. It is timed perfectly as my paycheck runs out in August.
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And the absolute best part of it all – aside from the beautiful man himself – is that I can let that paycheck run out. Why? Because this man I love, this man who makes me want to break out in opera, I’m so happy, has given me my heart’s desire: he is more than willing to support the both of us. I don’t have to go back to work. Ever. I don’t have to teach ever again. We had the conversation about the future and I was so hesitant to tell him what I really want, unable to shake the fear that he would feel resentful at my expectation that he would work every day while I just sat on my duff watching game shows. But I should have known he wouldn’t react like that. He’s this great millennium man, but he’s also traditional enough hat the idea of the husband supporting his family wasn’t foreign to him. He was so sweet about it, offering to take care of me. That’s how he put it: he wanted to “take care of me.” And what a relief to know he was capable of it, that we wouldn’t be living hand-to-mouth if I stopped bringing home a paycheck.
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When he offered, I just stared at him for a moment, overwhelmed with the prospect of finally having my dream handed to me in such a beautiful package, and then I just started crying. He was a little startled and concerned, but I just wrapped my arms around his neck and sobbed for a few minutes into his shirt, the sweet smell of him adding a few more minutes to the cry fest. When I could finally speak, I blubbered that he had just given me what I wanted the most, my heart’s desire for the last year, the chance to really focus on and experience my marriage and family, which was what I had wanted more than anything else all my life. He sort of chuckled and held me tighter now that he knew why I was crying and he said if he had known I would have reacted that way he would have offered weeks ago!
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So now when we go to pick out china or things for the house, I have a skip in my step, so happy because not only am I finally getting married to the love of my life, but I don’t have to mix in that experience with that of Newsome Park! Oh, I get giddy just contemplating it. I never have to go back! The only things I plan on taking home with me are my children’s books and my rolling cart and my refrigerator. Everything else is going to be gone! And I love that I still have a couple of months to deal with wedding stuff before the wedding without a job taking up all my time. I can meet vendors and make phone calls and arrange things during business hours.
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It’s like abstaining from alcohol for years and then getting drunk on three sips of champagne – all my dreams are coming true. Finally, I’m getting everything I want.
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