Thursday night when I was writing the latest blog post I was sitting on the couch with my daughter after my son had gone to bed. I’d made chicken tacos for dinner at her request and we were just spending some time sitting in the same space. She was working in an art book and I put on some ambient music and she asked, “do you do this every night?” I could tell by the way she was asking that it was something she was enjoying but I didn’t want to read into it. I asked her if she liked sitting and listening to music and working in the same space and she said, “yeah.” It was very simple, something I used to do when I was a kid all the time, sitting in the same space as other people and just focusing on our own tasks without really interacting at all. We sat up for a bit longer while I finished what I was writing and she decided it was time for bed, school day and all.

Tuesday when I got to work there was an email going around about a former student who had been killed in an accident over the weekend. Story is that his dad thought he was a coyote in the back yard and shot him. Whether this is the case or not, I remember this young man from last year and for some reason the only interactions that I can hold in my mind came from working lunch duty and asking him to stand in line. I think about his friends more than anything right now, people that were my students and worked many hours with me in the same projects over the last three years, kids becoming young adults and now just a bit more adult. There were emails going around on campus with memories of this young man and one of the teachers sent something about his grades; if that is the sum total of your knowledge of a student that is such a huge loss. I don’t know all of my students’ stories, I don’t know their parents or deal with them beyond what goes on in class/on stage but if one of them was tragically killed, I hope I’d have more to say than just something about a tutorial that they came to.

It has been a heavy week. I had another student come in my classroom on Wednesday completely falling apart. I know more of her backstory than most teachers simply because I’ve asked and seen her struggling over the last few months. I knew enough to ask if she was safe and when she didn’t have a strong yes to that question, I walked her up to the counselor. She was alright and I saw her the rest of the week in class but this kid just carries so much weight on her shoulders everyday that I can relate to. My weight has been less lately but it still has the power to surprise me with the occasional slip.

Last night when I got home, I was emotionally fried. After spending so much time with my kids and friends the past week, I was alone. I keep waiting for alone to feel normal, people say it will. I was texting with a friend and my cousin but it wasn’t the same as having a body on the couch next to me asking if I do this every night. Climbing wasn’t an option to be around people, I’m resting my arm from a tweaked muscle and there wasn’t anything on the agenda other than some laundry that I couldn’t really do because the dryer in my place is being replaced next week. I went over to my dad’s place and talked with him and Suzanne, did some laundry and ate some Indian food before coming back to my place and dropping off the laundry. I went over to Golden Boy for a drink and listened to some coffee shop music, saw a friend and then came home and tried to relax.

This afternoon, I’m driving down to Burnet for a training race and I know it is what I need to do. Last night while we were chatting, Suzanne expressed concern about me being on that kind of trip alone and I understand where her concern came from because my plan is to drive down, run and then maybe nap and drive back. I’ve done it before and I know that I can make the trip but the concern is real. I’m making the trip alone. I’m sure I’ll see some people I know at the race but it’s entirely possible that I’ll be running alone through the night and the darkness but isn’t that the point? You come through the darkness alone and it makes you what you are.

It’s been a long season. It’s been a while since I’ve felt like I do right now. I’m safe. I’m drinking coffee and looking at a mound of laundry on the couch and I’m safe.