It is hard to believe that we are already barreling toward the end of yet another semester. It is this time of year that I am torn between jumping for joy that an extended break is near and lamenting the fact that I won’t have the opportunity to see my students for a few months. Indeed, a whole flock of them will be graduating in May and I may never see them again.
I always wish at about this time in the semester that I had more time with each one of them – more time spent one-on-one, more time to discuss their hopes and dreams, more time to just soak in their bright and shiny-ness. But the semesters get hectic and there are never enough hours in each day – and then I get a few weeks out from the end and I wish I could go back in time and slow it all down and take more time with them. My colleague Jessica Jensen says I am like a “mother” to the undergrad students and although I quickly dismiss that characterization, I see a grain of truth in it today as I write this blog. The time that flies with them is not unlike the time that flies with my children and grandchildren. My heart wants to hold on to them as long as possible, but as is true of the time with my family – it flies by with hardly a notice until it is all but gone.
The end of the semester melancholy is setting in and from here on out I will dig in my heels and try and hang on to every minute…but it won’t change anything. The days will be no less hectic, and time will not magically stop on my account (if only I had a really special sparkly wand – maybe then I could pull such things off). In a few weeks we will disband for the semester – some will graduate, some I will see next semester in class, and some I may see periodically around campus.
I know one thing for sure – they’ll never miss me as much as I miss them. I am okay with that. I know that the reason I do the work I do is to have the privilege of engaging with them and their learning experience…they, on the other hand, are just going to school as a means to an end. They gleefully move from semester to semester toward their goals – as they should. And me, well…perhaps I need to start looking for that really special sparkly wand. 
Day one thousand three hundred and seventy-nine of the new forty – obla di obla da
Ms. C
