A Year Summed Up . . .

Tomorrow, November 29th, 2011, at approximately 12 pm, I will be walking down the stairs of the Staunton School of Cosmetology for the very last time . . .

And yet I can remember the very first time I walked up them . . . then, at thirty-seven, I’m sure I received quite a few strange stares by those who were barely skimming nineteen and or their fresh and yawning twenties.

I remember, then, realizing, just how very much older I was and feeling rather ignorant that I hadn’t realize it before. I remember thinking, if not worrying, "Am I too old for this? Am I too late? Am I trying to jump a train that has long since left the station?"

That first day burned its ways into the pages of an eleven-month commitment of amazement, deep study, determination, and a world of revelations. And when I turned thirty-eight this past September, I realized that my age, may have been the very thing that gave me the edge I needed to do as well as I did, to study as hard as I did, and to absorb as much information as I could in such a short amount of time . . .

Because I knew the importance of this education, with age comes determination, the nagging and fearful balance and value of my student loan, the crucial significance of teaching my children a valuable lesson (that it’s never too late to learn), as well as the extraordinary role I would play in every client’s life and they, mine, when one sat down in my chair.

I put my writing (Thank you to my Publisher for being patient)–which is my deepest love–and most of my life on hold, in order to get through eleven months of working my tail off for something– a career, a chance, and knowledge. And mind you, I’m still unsure, where, if at all, it will lead me.

After I survive walking down those stairs, for the very last time, without crying a flood that will dampen those Halls, I leave behind, forever . . . .

If I can. *sighs*