(Photo taken on vacation at Tsillan Vineyards in Chelan, Washington)
In case you hadn’t noticed, I took a break from my blog for most of August. I was off from work and enjoyed not having to do anything. I read some books, went on a five-day vacation with hubby and daughter to eastern Washington, and had a job interview three days after my return from vacation (more about that later).
Our trip to Chelan was a refreshing break. I tried to set my expectations low so I wouldn’t be disappointed. The last time I had high expectations for a family get-away, I was sorely let down. Everyone was crabby and the whole Norman Rockwell enterprise I envisioned turned out more like a scene from a Tim Burton movie (for you oldsters, make that Alfred Hitchcock).
My main goal for our vacation was to get out of the house. Mission accomplished. I figured it would eliminate any opportunity to think about chores, bills, news about the economy, and other things that I didn’t want to think about. It worked! We had an enjoyable time together as a family and my expectations were far exceeded.
Of course, it helped that I recently purchased a new Nikon camera and was itching to take photos of the beautiful scenery. Halfway through our holiday, my husband commented wryly, “That new camera has taken over our lives.” But he gamely stopped the car every time a new sight (I mean, me) called out for photographing.
This vacation was unique in that it was punctuated by visits with old friends. One of the encounters was a complete surprise. Our first night in Chelan, we visited a Tuscan-style winery. The winery features an Italian restaurant and is set on a beautiful hillside overlooking Lake Chelan. I intended to visit the winery simply to take photos when the sun was low in the sky—at dusk.
We walked into the wine-tasting area just after it had closed and, just as we entered, I heard a voice call out, “Dana!” I couldn’t imagine who would know my name. Imagine my surprise and delight when I looked over and saw a childhood friend (a classmate and one of the bridesmaids in our wedding), sitting there with her husband (and his brother and his wife).
We had a joyous reunion and spent the evening visiting. One of the waiters graciously offered to take a photo of all of us together. The evening was made even more memorable when we heard a group of people applauding and realized that a young man had just proposed to his girlfriend. As we left the winery, we passed the prospective bride and asked if she had been genuinely surprised. She said, “Yes!” and showed us her ring. Her suitor had arranged to have a special menu given to her with the words, “Will you marry me?” listed under the first several entrees. Clever! (Some guys sure know how to set the bar high for the rest of the schmucks out there.)
Two nights later, we had dinner at the home of old college friends in a nearby city. We have not seen our friends for nearly 20 years, although we have kept in touch via email. What a delight it was to catch up with them and to meet their two youngest kids. We capped off the evening with my husband and daughter and their two kids playing a selection of songs on the piano. Good times!
As we headed home on our last day of vacation, we stopped in the “Bavarian Village” of Leavenworth. After eating lunch, the three of us split up to do some shopping. I walked past a street side restaurant and was startled to see our priest, his wife, and two couples from our church parish! Small world, indeed.
I know that this excursion may be the last for the three of us to take together. A year ago, that would have just killed me to think about. But I’m coming to grips with the new season of life that is fast approaching and I’m simply free-falling into it. I think that may be my new motto: “Free Fall Into It.”
Now, about that comfort zone. A week ago Monday, I was interviewed for a part-time high school teaching job (Marketing and Career Development). I spent two days prepping for the interview and putting together a “leave behind” piece with a lesson plan, rubrics, and a copy of my last evaluation.
I was told that a hiring decision would be made no later than Friday since the school wanted the candidate to start work the following Monday. When I didn’t receive a phone call by the following Monday, I naturally assumed I wasn’t selected for the position.
On Tuesday, I received three emails from people I’d given as references, telling me that they had been contacted about me. One of them informed me that the decision had been narrowed to me and one other candidate. Well, talk about nerve-wracking.
I ended up leaving the house to go shopping in an effort to distract myself. I just couldn’t bear hanging around the house, waiting for the elusive phone call. When no call came in that day, I was convinced that I was not the selected candidate.
All of this was made more stressful because I had to return to my regular job on Wednesday. At 9:30 Wednesday morning, I got a call at work from the principal who had interviewed me. In a fairly downcast tone of voice (it seemed to me), he explained to me why their decision had been so slow-moving. He said they had to verify certifications and references. He said something about one of the key members of the interview team being out of town. Then, as he finally got to the point of his phone call (I braced myself for the inevitable let-down), he said “So we’ve made our hiring decision . . . and we’d like to offer you the position.”
Wha?!!!! I think I blurted out, “REALLY? I’m so excited! I thought you were going to say something else!” (All exclaimed amidst a lot of enthusiasm and genuine surprise.) I think my reaction threw him a bit. He replied, “Well, I’m sorry . . . I was just trying to explain . . . “ Anyway, I was so stinking surprised and excited and freaked out and scared and happy that I went a little nutz-oid for a minute.
I managed to calm down long enough to call my supervisor to tell her that—instead of working for the rest of the school year—I’d be working approximately 48 hours and starting another job next Tuesday. She is one of my references, a good friend, a supporter, and one of the role models who encouraged me in this new venture. So I knew she’d understand (she did).
I submitted my letter of resignation moments later and started packing up ten years’ worth of memories. To say that I have mixed feelings would be an understatement. This is the longest I have ever worked for any employer. My co-workers are like family to me. I am going to miss them. These are the people who supported me through cancer treatment, who donated shared leave so that my financial impact from time off was minimal. They gave me cards, gifts, encouragement, and one of them even set up a small, lighted Christmas tree in my office to cheer me during the holidays while I was undergoing chemo.
(Photo, below: my colleagues and I (front center) on my last day at MVHS.)
Which brings me to teaching. Yes, it’s out of my comfort zone. But I’ve learned that if God brings me to a challenge, He’ll equip me to go through it. Like the train ticket story I wrote about during my cancer treatment. I’ve clung to that principle time and time again—it has given me hope and the ability to move forward when fear of the unknown just about paralyzes me.
I believe the whole cancer experience equipped me for this new challenge. I came to the realization that I want my life to be about more than sitting at a computer all day. I have something worth sharing and passing on to the next generation--not because I’m anybody special--but because we all have something worth sharing. (Reminds me of the expression, You're special! Just like everyone else.)
Making a career change this late in life is scary, too. But I have a lot of years of life experience to fall back on and God goes before me. (I am reminded of this truth every day with a small plaque given to me during cancer treatment. I keep it directly in front of me while I'm brushing my teeth. It reads: Don't fear the future. God is already there.)
During my interview, the last question asked was, “What is the most important thing you want a student to learn from you?” I didn’t have to think hard about my answer: “A love of learning.” If there’s one thing I know, there’s always something new to learn. Who else better to teach that than a cancer survivor starting a new career in her 50s?