My cough echoes off the walls that were once covered by furniture or pictures. Now the room is empty and man how my voice carries in here.
This apartment is mine. well, it's my apartment for three more days and then i will finally hand the keys over to my boss. I will contact the IT department and tell them to come get my old computer so they can scrub it clean and store it in some room in the bowels of an undisclosed building on campus maybe. And like that, my career as a Resident director will be over. The ending of an Era has officially, irrevocably, inexorably arrived.
But for now I sit writing this blog on a mattress in an empty apartment reflecting on all I experienced here. In some ways I feel a little lacking in the feeling department when it comes to my reflections. I think maybe I should be crying or feeling deep overwhelming sadness, mourning the loss of this place. To be sure, I did love it here. I loved my job. and i' excited for a new chapter. It's so weird: a few days ago, I was in my office doing some cleaning and a student came up to me and asked me if I was the RD. I said "Yes". I don't know why I didn't have the heart to tell him otherwise. To be honest, It wasn't because I secretly wished I still was, but rather I didn't know how to explain what I had really become. A man stuck between two worlds, yesterday and tomorrow. The present is a waiting place and if you remember what doctor seuss says:
The Waiting Place…for people just waiting.
Waiting for a train to go or a bus to come, or a plane to go or the mail to come, or the rain to go or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow or waiting around for a Yes or No or waiting for their hair to grow. Everyone is just waiting.
Waiting for the fish to bite or waiting for wind to fly a kite or waiting around for Friday night or waiting, perhaps, for their Uncle Jake or a pot to boil, or a Better Break or a string of pearls, or a pair of pants or a wig with curls, or Another Chance. Everyone is just waiting.
Yea, that's the present these days, waiting for tomorrow. Anyway, the student asks me if I'm the RD. The answer is: "well, uh, no technically I'm not, but I still have the keys, still have the office, still have the sign over the door, still have some furniture left to move, a stove to scrub, a reimbursement check to pick up (Yea!). No, That would be too much a pain in the butt, so I just say: 'Yea I'm him", then the student proceeds to tell me he works for campus safety and I've parked my car in an unacceptable fashion. I smile and tell him I'll move it in a few minutes. I won't miss that.
But i will miss this apartment. i will miss having the couch along THAT wall, and the picture of that lemon tree that stood guard over our kitchen table. I'll miss the backyard that seemed to be impossible to keep tidy because of all the pine needles continually shedding from the huge pine tree in the backyard. Heck I might even miss the stomping of men on the floor above us like tribal drumbeats at any part of the day...Naw actually I won't miss that crap at all..:)
It's weird to be in the place of ending. I know tomorrow is just around the bend, but this ending has got me beginning something new and in the meantime I'm waiting in the present, on a mattress in an empty apartment, a shadow of what once was and a reminder of what is now true....this is no longer my home. I'm not coming back. I'm standing on the precipice of something new. It's kind of a sacred place really.
I want to say "Thank you" to Biola... These last eighteen years as a student and employee have been an absolute gift. I'm grateful to be on this mattress; grateful there is a new home, new challenges and new memories to build.
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