New Beginnings

Yesterday was transfer orientation at the University of Central Florida.

And guess who almost had a meltdown? Me...

I have been struggling with getting my diploma for ten years. 

Ten very long years.

I moved to Florida in 1999 with the intent of going to to UCF then.  

And due to be extremely poor and not qualifying for enough loans, I had to postpone my education.

I felt depleted.

I felt like I had not broken the cycle of my family not finishing school.

I was disappointed in myself.  

I failed myself.

Although afterwards, over the last ten years, I have gone to school off and on, I still never dealt with the disappointment.  

I have beat myself up.

I tried to prove myself as a worthy person in other ways.

I tried to look at how successful I am in other measures.

I try not to regret my decisions in my life.

I was lucky that still had the ability to land a great job.

I still met other life goals.

I still bought a great house.

I still got married.

I still was a good person. 

Roger knew my feelings on this.

He knew my internal struggle.

How I always met my goals in life, except this one thing.

One piece of paper that I want.

I know I am doing the right thing by going back to school now.

I know Roger would be proud that I am using this tragedy/time/money to go back to school.

At orientation, the welcome speaker talked to us yesterday morning about how this was a new beginning.

This was a new life.

A new chapter.

I felt the tears welling up.  

They did not fall.

Thankfully.  

A room full of 500 people would with one crying would not have been a pretty sight.

And there was no way I wanted to explain.

But I keep thinking, this is all because he died.

If he had not have left me, this would not be occurring right now.  

Maybe in the future, but not now.

I would still be taking one or two classes a semester, working at a job I hated, and getting a degree just for the sake of getting a degree.

I know my degree and my graduation will mean so much more to me than most people.

I know I have gone through hell to get here.  

I do feel excited.

I truly do.

I keep thinking about the card he gave me a few years ago talking about how he would take care of me.

Consciously or unconsciously, by dying he has taken care of me.

He has made it possible for me to finish school, to leave a job, and achieve a passion I love.  

Even in his death, he is fixing me.

He is giving me a new beginning.

A second chance at life.