ode to oakgrove

Today was my last day at Oakgrove.
It was nice to end the last day with a Hands for a Bridge meeting. The Hands for a Bridge students always impress me with their ability to talk with each other about the things that so many others in Derry avoid talking about. In fact, the Oakgrove school in general impresses me. The students appreciate how their school connects people, the administration is eager to try new things, the teachers go to great lengths to give each new idea and teaching system a chance, etc. Oakgrove's eagerness to accommodate my cross-cultural student teaching experience this past semester is just one of many examples of this openness and adaptability.

I walked home from the bus station in pouring rain as I thought about the task I had just completed. The rain had sort of snuck up on me, starting as a subtle drizzle and growing into something more heavy while I let my mind wander through the events of the last three and a half months. By the time I realized it was raining, i was wet enough to ignore the umbrella in my bag. I let my big, cavernous hood work alone as it caught most of the rain before it could wet my face.

When I got home, it was a warm, fire-lit house I returned to. Sparky was sprawled in front of the fire for a nap and Stevie and Roisin watched the soaps from the sofa behind him.

Just like the rain, a host of goodbyes have snuck up on me, collecting to an overwhelming weight before I could focus. I've opted not to dwell on the goodbyes: to ignore it like the rain, and let it fall as it may.

I'm sure I'll be back someday. If God allowed me to return this time, perhaps he'll allow me to return again.