March

Summer is coming and the days keep getting longer. But as it has been for the past 17 years, the days keep getting shorter for me. The past 17 years, I’ve been teaching and March is the customary month for graduation. I’ve come to associate it now with growing up (since my birthday falls in March)… and also letting go.

I realize that growing up and letting go often go hand in hand. When graduation rolls around, I used to cry as I watched the ‘kids’ (no matter how old they get, they’re always my kids) leave the school. The tears were, of course, a mixture of pride and sadness. I say, I used to, as if I don’t shed tears anymore. I still do. But I no longer resent the feeling of sadness.

I’ve come to accept the sadness that comes when loved ones leave. And I don’t mean that in a fatalistic and defeatist way that means I’ve completely given up on love. I just mean I’ve come to understand that this world is impermanent. As an adult I am more involved now when people get sick, or migrate or drift apart or die. And while I know it is difficult to deal with, I also know that it is not impossible.

What allows me to deal with it all is my faith that tells me that forever exists, that heaven exists, that the resurrection was not a one-time miracle. Perhaps the fact that this is the season of Lent allows me to put that temporary sadness in perspective as well. Because after Lent always comes Easter. That is the very foundation of my Christian faith.

What I need to remind myself of is that I do not allow this impending separation from others keep me from loving truly and deeply. Instead, I allow myself to relish the moments of togetherness more so that every experience is treasured and seen as a gift.

As the school year comes to a close, as the Lent comes to a close, I take stock of what has been and look forward to what will be – but not before completely immersing myself in what is.