-A foolish fond old man spinning a web of sentimentality-
It’s finals week for me here at University of Colorado. Every time I finish up classes I get this weird feeling; I feel sort of helpless. No matter what I do from now on for that class, it is over and nothing will ever change the result. I suppose this can be a liberating feeling, that I should accept the things I can’t change, but it seldom is. I obsess about whether it would have been feasible to do more in the class, at least, until I get the grade. Then I have a new group of subjects to think about.
I spent three hours last night doing a history final and filled two bluebooks. I remember people leaving before I had finished the first question. That’s not a good feeling either. I kept telling myself that they must not have had much to say.
I wasn’t always like this, you know. I was once quite nonchalant about my schooling. Maybe I am trying to compensate for early scholastic failures, I really can’t tell. I could just be trying to finish strong, as I only have one semester left. But I know that I do things very different now from how I did them back then. I often think that joining the Army and going on a mission had served to awaken the sleeper. In the Army, I suddenly found a great potential. I found I could memorize things with little effort. On a mission, I made myself set and achieve goals. I pushed myself, and my companions, to always be fearless and unwavering. Each of these things is over though. I am still a soldier and am technically still a missionary (as every member is). I’ve taken what I can from the experiences, but I can’t go back.
It’s is funny to me how it works. It’s like a book. You read and learn what you can from a chapter, then close that chapter and move on to something new. One thing ends and another begins. But you can’t go back. Once its over, its over, and you can’t change anything. Maybe its less like a book and more like a ratchet. You can turn it as slow as you want, but after you hear the click, it’s done. Alea iacta est.
I’ll be graduating in December. I’ve learned all that I can here (Literally. There are only a couple more English courses I can take), and it will be time to move on. That is definitely a weird feeling. Especially considering my freshman year was eight years ago. I woke up this morning twenty six years old with a wife and kid. It would have been even more shocking if that wasn’t also true last night. However, it does help that they won’t leave me. When I move on, they will move on with me. I don’t have to do it alone. Family is a wonderful thing, to recall another writer on this site.
Thanks for letting me smell the roses, kids.