After four months of water heater issues, car issues and new job issues, he is finally coming home. I sit here thinking about whether or not I should have made a banner that reads something clever. I am now wondering if I should have got more balloons or whatever else everyone else does for home comings. The truth is, I'm not a big fan of the grand gesture. I think its sweet to celebrate but the glitter and paint isn't really my thing, unless I am doing crafts, then I can give it away as a present and let someone else figure out what to do with it. The truth is, I just want him home so we can begin the next adventure.
The last few months hasn't been easy. I feel ridiculous complaining since the headlines flash true hardships but for me, in my own little fish bowl, the water is murky. I swim around in my own thoughts and I can't seem to escape. Now I know what it must feel like to be a goldfish, you are home, not much you can do since you are only a fish but ugh, same ole water, same ole tank and even the multi colored rocks all look the same. What was it about my surrounding that is no longer inspiring?
I was sitting at work today, a typical day. Actually, work has been going well. I am starting to feel more comfortable and getting to know a few of our frequent shoppers (they really aren't shoppers but for a lack of a better reference) so yea...things have been going oh-kay! However, there has been lingering and pestering thoughts lately. I have it in my head to work for a certain organization. Its been on my mental horizon for a few years now. I go online and look at jobs and contemplate applying but then I brush off my interest, telling myself that I am fine where I am at. I build up what my current position is, make up potential opportunities and settle myself down. A few weeks pass, maybe even a month and the thought nags me again. Ugh, why can't I ever be satisfied with where I am at?
However, today I hit my peak. Whatever happened, I had to face it. I've been with the same organization for close to thirteen years and today I felt God telling me, urging me and whispering to me that its done. This chapter in my life is complete, its time to move on. It is difficult to move on when nothing is wrong. I do know that a few items of change will be soon haunting me at my current position and for me, I rather shut the chapter now than to grow bitter but that's just a fingerprint on my emotions.
I got off work an hour early which was awesome because I felt the tears building up all day. I got to my car, with the switch of the ignition, the tears begun to flow. I plug in my music and drove around for a few hours, praying aloud. I had confession in my lil gray Jetta. I talked to God because he called shot gun. I rambled on all the things that has been so heavy on my heart, on my mind. I cried about the past four months, all the ways I wish I was stronger, better, smarter. I prayed about all my short comings and potential successes. I also asked for his guidance, for his continued grace and if its truly time to move on, open the door and please, don't let it be a trap door. Thinking about moving on, I started to reminisce what CU has meant to me. I looked back and I went to the beginning.
I was 22 years old when my aunt drove me to my interview with Lora, manager of the Office of Cash Management. It was a temporary position which meant that if they liked you, it could be permanent. I felt as if I was being setup on a blind date. Lora brought me on and the two people who had already worked there were Kenny and Sega. Sega was my age and she had been in the US for a few years, her home was Africa. She was beautiful and we quickly became friends. Time had passed, she was a newlywed and after six months of marriage, she found out she was pregnant. She was so excited and couldn't wait to be a mommy, her and her hubby were very sweet about the whole idea of becoming parents. Shortly after, I was also pregnant but with less the perfect circumstances. I would be alone for my pregnancy but she was very supportive, in fact, the entire department was. We shared our pregnancies together and her daughter was born three months prior to my daughter.
A year passed and she found out she was pregnant again! it was a Wednesday when she told me, I hugged her but she was scared having a baby so close to her last pregnancy. We all assured her it would be fine, she was young and healthy. Friday morning Lora came out of the back with a shocked look that flashed across her face, Sega's husband had been killed in a car accident. We quickly learned, we weren't just co-workers, we were family.
The day of the funeral was cold and bitter. The snow had no mercy on our drives or on our emotions. It was as frozen outside as we all felt on the inside. I hugged Sega while she sobbed and I had no words. I only wanted her to see my face, to know that I was there for her. Nine months later, she had a boy, she named him after her husband. Shortly after his birth, she went back home to Africa, she needed her family.
I drove around today, thinking of the past and felt sad yet brave. If a tender heart from Africa can move here and face such a tragic loss and find the courage to go home, maybe I can too. If God opens the door for me, why would I be scared to go pass its threshold. I can't settle for mediocre, for good enough for right now.....when is it time to step out in faith? I started off immature and weak but I met some amazing people along the way, people that outshine the sun...so this next chapter should be a walk in the park. How can I let go and who do I thank before I leave?
I anxiously wait for Tommy to arrive so we can move!
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