"I think the finish line's a good place we can start..."
My mom will be here any minute to help me pack up the last of my belongings to move back to Haliburton for the last time. It's hard to pack four years of memories without a never-ending box of Kleenex nearby. As I flipped through cards, certificates, pictures, and assorted tchotchkes, I can't help but envisioning all of the other RAs packing as sort of a montage, as we move in slow-motion, enveloped by memories, with Snow Patrol's "The Finish Line" playing mournfully in the background.
I have exciting things lined up for the next year and a half at least, and yes, the world really is my oyster- I have developed into an accomplished and personable young woman with a resume a mile long and a heart at least as big. Heck, now I even have the confidence to proclaim that the world. Focusing on the future is hard, however, when you are standing knee-deep in the past. Handing in my RA keys and taking down my door tag brings an end to an era, the era that has thus far proved to be the most defining one for me. It is not the lockouts and angry students I will remember, but the programs, the good sleepless nights, the smiles, and- of course- the friendships. It's been a rocky road at times, from that first lonely year to life-threatening incidents in rez to bawling our eyes out in New Orleans, but at this point, I wouldn't trade it all for anything. As optimistic as it would be to construe this as a beginning rather than an ending, it really is an ending. A door really is closing.
There are too many specific events to try and recount, too many specific memories to try and share. We've all been weeping about them for the last few days anyways. So this, my friends, is simply a thank you. For all of the times that we've shared, for all of the times you've been supportive, for all of the things you've done that have shaped me as a human being. It's going to be weird to live in different cities, and possibly even on different continents at some point, but we'll work it out. If we can survive all of the things we've all managed to survive together, we can all survive distance.
I head towards the future with something taken from each and every one of you, which must make me one of the luckiest and most prepared people in the world.
I have exciting things lined up for the next year and a half at least, and yes, the world really is my oyster- I have developed into an accomplished and personable young woman with a resume a mile long and a heart at least as big. Heck, now I even have the confidence to proclaim that the world. Focusing on the future is hard, however, when you are standing knee-deep in the past. Handing in my RA keys and taking down my door tag brings an end to an era, the era that has thus far proved to be the most defining one for me. It is not the lockouts and angry students I will remember, but the programs, the good sleepless nights, the smiles, and- of course- the friendships. It's been a rocky road at times, from that first lonely year to life-threatening incidents in rez to bawling our eyes out in New Orleans, but at this point, I wouldn't trade it all for anything. As optimistic as it would be to construe this as a beginning rather than an ending, it really is an ending. A door really is closing.
There are too many specific events to try and recount, too many specific memories to try and share. We've all been weeping about them for the last few days anyways. So this, my friends, is simply a thank you. For all of the times that we've shared, for all of the times you've been supportive, for all of the things you've done that have shaped me as a human being. It's going to be weird to live in different cities, and possibly even on different continents at some point, but we'll work it out. If we can survive all of the things we've all managed to survive together, we can all survive distance.
I head towards the future with something taken from each and every one of you, which must make me one of the luckiest and most prepared people in the world.