Something about twenty-four, but who’s counting?

I remember the first day I went to grade one as vividly as if it were today. I got on a bus surrounded by the only people I knew in the whole of my world, my family. I was the 7^th one on the bus from the Linehan household so I knew six people within the confines of that yellow metal new-to-me experience. That was the day my world expanded beyond the boundaries of the Linehan fences. To make matters more complicated, I was ten days late because of a sore throat that had taken me out like so many before it and so many to come.

That first time going to school was a terrifying rebirth in ways that none would particularly understand today because of play dates, day care, pre-kindergarten, kindergarten, MacDonalds, Hockey, Soccer, Music, camps, birthday parties, etc. that allow kids to connect. Conveniences like washing machines and dryers, crock pots, air fryers, electric ranges that will cook any time you want, freezer meals, vacuums, electronic sweepers, all the things that take away the menial tasks that were once more labourious and essential to living. They were a lot bigger than menial in that they took up all the time of, really, mostly the women and mothers and there was very little time left for themselves. All these kids activities we weren’t exposed to, so my world remained inside the fence posts with the one who made all those things look easy. And that was the same for mostly every other household that we would come to know.

Now me and the five other grade one students of 1970 on Albert MacDonald’s bus from North Harbour to Our Lady of Mount Carmel school are or have turned sixty in 2024. We and the other twenty odd in our class have spread out across the world. Some we have lost, some have returned to their roots in our little bay, and some have no intention of coming back, even for a visit. Regardless, they shaped that vulnerable part of my life from that wide-eyed and frightening day on the bus until grade eleven graduation.

Not all these experiences within those eleven years were fun I might add. Like being in the crosshairs of Rayme D when he had the dodgeball, and you were the only thing between him and a win. Not fun. Well, if he got you. But if you got him, that was a different story. New friendships popped up that remain today while others are just pictures in a yearbook because I haven’t seen them since the last bell in 1981. Overall, that was a time of growth. Moving on after that was quite traumatizing, as well. Not only because of what happened to me that last summer before grade eleven but also because it was going out into the world on a new school bus with nobody familiar around to keep me company. Social media wasn’t a thing, so our only social was within the walls of the school or the endpoints of North Harbour. The September after graduation, our worlds expanded. Knowing you’d survive it because you’d done it before was cold comfort. Again, I was ten days late starting and friendships had been made of which I was never part of. Being in the crosshairs of teachers maligning me because I was a girl trying to do a “man’s” job at Civil Engineering was also terrifying. It was a thing and the was hasn't quite lived up to its name because it's still a thing.

Then I got married and moved to a new community and the world expanded again. That time I had a partner who could introduce me to this new world. Family happens as family does and the next thing the world turned upside down and I was off to school again, college this time uncaring that I was alone going through the same doors that had not been kind to me the time before. It was different, not at all intimidating. I was older and my own care was for the family I got to see on weekends.  

After that it was off to work with the federal government, new world but a few people that I'd gone through college with accompanied me on that bus into the newest expansion.

I’ve spent a little less than half my life as a federal public servant. Now I can’t believe I have twenty-four work weeks until I leave that world behind. I made a decision in January that I’d retire this year. People who don’t know what it is actually like to work as a federal public servant will say, “oh, you had it knocked,” meaning that I cruised through those twenty-seven years without much to do, with no stress, feet up, paid well, etc. That’s not the truth. To them that knows, I was driving the bus on so many things, out in front of change, pioneering, and working hard to improve things that made sense and unafraid to speak up when things didn’t. I can truly say I loved my job and even the times that the dodgeball was aimed at me was exhilarating.

My kids thought and still think I was/am a spy, but I digress.

Like all choices I make, I move on. I don’t waste time on a second guess, nor do I remake decisions. I’m excited for this new bus into the ever after of retirement. Perhaps I’ll spend some time at the wheel and perhaps I’ll do a hop on hop off version into my expansion. I have lots to look forward to and I’m not done yet. I’ll write more. I’ll adventure more. I’ll write more about those adventures. Maybe I'll start something new.

What I am most proud off is that I’ve made the most extraordinary friendships at school, at college, at work, and through writing, and those connections will continue long past my final day at work, October 15, 2024. I could never imagine all these people when I got on that bus in grade one.

As I reflect more on my twenty-four remaining weeks at work (I know the math doesn’t add up but that’s where the spy thing comes in 😉), in this year of 2024, it might seem appropriate to drink a “24” for the 24 remaining weeks, but I do have to work tomorrow and I’m allergic to beer.

Whether I have 24 minutes, hours, months, years, ahead of me, I know this is not an end but a new beginning. A chance to pick my expanding. Nothing I can change behind me. So, look out world, I’m being unleashed at a bus stop full of lessons learned and not an ounce of anxiety or fear as I look for destinations.

If you’re lucky enough to have me as your driver when you get on, your lucky enough. Kidding, not kidding. That’s up to you. Expanding happens all the time. Embrace it. Possibilities, come here till I get a look at you.

Update, we bought a house in St. Bride's so my 24 weeks turned into 18 months ~ maybe I should change that to 24 - (NAH) I'll do a 25 in 25 just to be sure. So, I did sort of change my mind, but I'll keep it at not really. The house changed my mind but the adventure will be worth it, I'm sure of that.