End-of-Term Blues


The end of the semester is always hard. That last week or two where it feels like another couple hours a day are necessary to even begin to manage, the last-minute pleading as students begin to realize that work is coming due and there won’t be any more second chances – and all of this on top of the regular daily rhythms of family life. The end is hard every semester; every semester it feels like it’s harder.

And then, something steps in to save me from sinking into my own misery: this from a blog I had followed years ago that the author has picked back up, for sad reasons of her own, but hers is a voice I’m selfishly happy to hear again.

I will not be who I was. I will not return to normal. I will not move on and forget about this time. And if I could do all of those things, wouldn’t it be sort of tragic? Wouldn’t it be a shame if this path of pain was a kind of loop track, dumping me off at the beginning of the journey, undisrupted and pretending I had never left home as I waited for the scars to fade? This path is taking me into a new place, and each loss is a sign of a piece of me I cannot carry into the future worldI am becoming something new and unexpected. What are you becoming next?

It’s the path! Breathe in, breathe out, accept that this is just the path right now. Things will look different tomorrow when classes are done, next week when exams are done, once grades are posted. Things will look different because we will be different.


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