A Moment That Still Seems Impossible
It just seems so impossible that Aaron called on Monday morning--April Fool's Day--upset and almost incoherent, telling Dad, "Echo is dead..." I went to the gym as usual after that call, because I couldn't wrap my mind around it and that's just what I do on Monday mornings.
Eight months later, it is still surreal.
Sadly, it really happened.
A Moment of Hope
I spent much of the Spring applying for various music teaching jobs, getting interviews here and there, as usual. It wasn't really even the proper "interview season" just yet, but in May, as things started warming up, I got a call from a local high school. An interview was set, and I donned my new polka-dot blouse with a Peter Pan collar and set off for the school, little knowing what to expect...and thinking, "I'm not entirely sure I ever want to teach high school again." By the time I left the interview, I knew. "I want this job. I really want this job."
I aced the interview. I know this because I got the job...but at the time, all I could do was hope.
A Moment of Pure, Cathartic Joy
But on January 11, I left that all at the door--specifically, the door of the Warfield Theater in San Francisco's seedy Tenderloin--when I saw Keane live for the fifth time. It was the first time I ever cried listening to them live. Most of the time I'm so excited to be there I just scream and giggle a lot, but that night, songs like "Silenced By the Night" (about coming out of a dark place) and my old favorite, "Somewhere Only We Know," brought the tears bubbling to my eyes. I stood there and sang along, wearing a huge smile and letting those tears come.
The Moment It All Became Real
In July, I got the keys to my new classroom, and the principal's secretary showed me to it. I opened the door and smiled in delight when I saw my new domain. I have an office! Moving on up.
As I set about making the room and office my own, and getting ready for a new school year, every so often I would stop and look around, marveling at how fortunate I am to have landed here. I still do it from time to time, just stop and think about the good things that have happened, and the hard work yet to come.
I'm up for it. : )
A Much-Needed Moment of Release
That's when a friend like Summer steps in and takes you to the beach. And reminds you that it's not you, it's the boy. It's not you, it's the idiot (and thankfully, now former) boss. Most importantly, she reminds you to forget the bosses past and the silly boys as you plop your butt on your beach towel and drink in the ocean air and the sound of waves crashing and seagulls crying, and to remember that you are awesome, you've got this new job, you're not the same Meg who waltzed into DVHS starry-eyed and naive.
So dig your toes in the sand and chew on that.
A Moment of Hilarity
Sometime in February, Dad jokingly asked Mom, "Do we have any pie? I want some pie." Mom gave him her usual dry, "No, I'm sorry, honey. We don't have any pie." You would think the matter would be closed, but oh, no.
See, our house is small, and I heard this exchange in my bedroom, and decided to help my dear Daddy out.
I even gave him whipped cream. He gave me the finger (and he laughed!).
It's never dull in our family. : )
A Moment of Huge Pride
I had my first concert at GB, and we nailed it. The next day, my boss would remark that the kids looked so relaxed, "but you looked terrified!"
"I was!" I laughed in reply. "I just wanted it to go well."
It did. My kids were so proud of themselves, and so sweet to give me a gorgeous bouquet and a lovely gift.
That evening, after the concert, I stared at the flowers on my desk and breathed a sigh of relief. Then the pride took over.
And a Moment the Pride Faltered
The good news is that I got through it, and Friday night we strode onto that stage ready to knock it out of the park. My kids made me proud.
A Record-Setting Moment
Just last weekend, I ran the 5K Santa Run, where everyone gets a cheap Santa suit to run in and hilarity ensues. My running the last few months hasn't been as consistent as I'd like it to be, so I set out for this race figuring I'd be happy to bring it home in under 35 minutes. When I reached the finish line, the clock said 30:43.
So I didn't reach my goal this year of a sub-thirty 5K, but damn, did I get close! Still breathing hard and feeling that now-familiar post-race rumbling in my stomach, I pushed my way through the crowded finish area to find a pocket of fresh air where I promptly pulled my phone out and texted my friend Matt. Then, of course, I bragged to Facebook and Twitter and any other social media outlet I could think of.
I've totally got this in 2014.
A Moment of Joy...Millennium Joy.
Pausing, now and again, to spend some quality time with my own personal joy-maker, Millennium Joy, who celebrated 14 years with me a few weeks ago by doing her usual morning routine of figuring out the exact moment I exit the REM phase and starting her incessant meowing for attention. As I type this, she's fast asleep on top of my hard drive, one back leg and her tail draped over the side, her front legs tucked under her sweet face. I admit that I get impatient with her constant need for attention when I'm trying to work...but I can't imagine life without my sweet girl.
Here's to many more moments--big and small--in 2014!