Tuesday, May 7, 2013

Spring and All Its Secret/Hidden Memories

Springtime is bittersweet.  Whereas Autumn is filled with the fluttering of beginnings, spring usually means the end of something.  In my case this spring would have been the time I graduated from Stanford.  One of my tutees (who is in elementary school) recently asked me if I cried once I went on leave because of my knee.  Cried for what I asked?  He wondered if I cried because I missed school and my friends.

I told him I hadn't but that's a supreme lie.  Sure I cried.  Hell I still cry sometimes and let the tears fall on Pilgrim's fur, crimping it in the area that becomes wet.  Mostly I cry for what I remember and what I feel like I'm missing.  Lost time and lost experiences, lost years I guess are what I cry for.

I can see the path that would have led me to graduation this year, a senior.  I guess I would have already had to decide whether or not I wanted to pursue a Master's or PhD degree.  Would I want to teach or would I have been as set on writing?

Then I think that I would've almost been stuck in time without ever really growing or evolving.  I would have been set in my ways, in a box.  Stuck with the same old friends and close-mindedness.  I wouldn't change or trade the person I am today for the naive one I was.

I hadn't written for a while.  Tomorrow I am seeing my surgeon to find out if the cartilage transplant was semi-successful.  I am back on the two crutches and feel like throwing them into the fire.  I want to be able to walk Pilgrim finally and to return to college in the fall. 

The summer is an open book.  What lies ahead I don't know but I feel some excitement in the air. 

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