Back in the spring, when I knew I was quitting my job of 19 years and doing…well, I didn’t know what I was going to do with my life at that point. I just knew I wasn’t going to keep being an educator. I wrote repeatedly in my journal about how badly I couldn’t wait for the near future, particularly the holiday season. I was so looking forward to the holidays because I knew I would actually be able to enjoy them this year. With four days off at Thanksgiving, I would truly be able to enjoy all four days. Not just the three days up until the last day when the Sunday Scaries would take over and I would vehemently dread going back to school the next day. I yearned for an anxiety-free holiday season. And now that it’s here, it is truly anxiety-free. But it also feels like something is missing. I didn’t expect that.
With my utter impatience to leave the god-awful situation I found myself working in at my old school, I didn’t think I would miss any of it. While I really don’t miss much of it, I do actually miss the Christmas festivities. I actually had to turn the radio off in the car the other day because a Christmas song was playing that made me remember singing it during Mass at my old church. My husband and I haven’t been to Mass hardly at all since I left my job at the Catholic school where I was. I still believe in God and pray daily, but it doesn’t feel the same.
According to my friend and former administrative assistant, tomorrow evening is the school’s Christmas musical. All of the students (and teachers) are required to attend. The band and chorus perform and the entire school performs in the musical/play. The music teacher is a professional gospel musician and always works so hard to make us believe those students are professionals too. It is always that good. But this is the first time in 19 years that I won’t be there to see it. Actually, I think there was a year in there that I had the flu and missed it.
I’ll also be missing the Las Posadas celebration on the last day of school before the break when the students recreate the journey of Mary and Joseph when they were looking for somewhere to stay after traveling to Bethlehem. The students go classroom to classroom looking for room and are turned away at every room except for the last one in the church social hall. There, they (and the rest of the classes who joined them in the procession) are welcomed in for a feast of Hispanic food cooked by various families.
I’ll miss the gifts from the kids and their parents. Working in a Catholic school meant that those gifts were always numerous and heartfelt.
This year, when decorating our tree at home, I didn’t hang the glittery apples. I bought those many years ago as a symbol of the fact that I was a teacher. I’m not anymore, and so I didn’t hang them. I also didn’t hang the set of pewter ornaments I helped design that represent the church when I was the chairperson of the 75th Anniversary Steering Committee several years ago.
My heart feels funny about all of this. Funny in that it’s contradicting itself. I’m still very relieved that I got out of there. The bravery I showed still surprises me nine months later. I’m happy in my new job. In fact, the dean of my department took all of us out to eat tonight for a dinner together. We didn’t call it a Christmas meal because my secretary is a Jehovah’s Witness and we are careful to respect the fact that she doesn’t celebrate any holiday. So much positivity in my new career, and yet I am almost wistful about my old school. There’s something to be said about the power of tradition, especially the ones that really were good for so many years. Maybe a new tradition of simply having a holiday season without stress and anxiety is what I need right now. More time is needed for my heart to completely heal from the negative experiences I had at my old school. Until then, I’m going to count down until the last day of work next Friday along with everyone else and look forward to the holiday break with a giddy anticipation that rivals even the most excited child waiting for Santa.
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