It was easier than I thought to clear out my desk, boxing up books and personal effects. When it was all done, 30 months of my life fit neatly in two small cardboard crates. As I hauled them out to my car, there sat a solitary man on the crumbling cement wall out in the parking lot. I asked if I could help him, and he said, "No, I just wanted to tell you goodbye. I saw your car was still in the lot. We're going to miss you."
I don't even know this guy's name or his story, but I thought that was a terribly nice and decent thing to do.
That was just one of many nice moments yesterday. But what made my heart splinter most of all was when the Board Chairman asked, "If A. has helped you or made a difference in your life, will you please stand?" And as I looked out at this huge crowd, and saw them rising to their feet, and clapping (for me!), my tears must have been as big as boulders. All I could do was look back in their faces, and whisper thank you.
I am so undeserving.
So embarrassingly undeserving of any of this.
Afterwards, as I stood for over an hour, shaking hands and hugging the many good people who have traveled on this journey with me, I had to be even more stoic:
"Why do you have to leave us?"
"We're all miserable you're leaving."
"I thought you would always be here. Who's going to do the work?"
"I know you gotta go, but I'm going to miss you, anyway."
It was a sentimental, and special send-off. I can't wait to see what's around the bend.
Be well.
