Tonight I handed in all my Practicum IV requirements — the final documents needed to complete my Master of Arts in Counselling degree. Which means that I am done. Done except for one last trip to Calgary to meet with my classmates over brunch on Friday morning for our final practicum class.
Did you hear me?!
Done! Done this 60-credit masters degree that has been in my life for the past 4 years and 4 months.
And what was my first response?
I cried (not tears of joy) and had an overwhelming desire to debrief about all the ways I have done poorly over the past four years.
(Trust me, this was not the way I anticipated feeling after being done everything.)
But alas, that is what happened. And so I pressed “send” on my email, went to the bathroom, and then sat down on Marc’s lap (breaking our Poang chair would’ve really added to the moment, but it thankfully didn’t break) and proceeded to tell him about all of my worries about how I could’ve been a better wife and mom, how I’ve been caught up in my own stuff, and have not been the person I should’ve been all of these years. I didn’t get crazy negative and I didn’t break out into sobs… but it was a pretty solemn moment, a bit of a fearful moment, and tears were shed.
Because what’s done is done.
Yes, I now have done the work to put two new letters after my name. But what I’ve done (and not done) to get there is also done and there’s no changing that. I know I’ve done pretty well and that I’ve grown so much, but my first response wasn’t to embrace the good, it was to acknowledge and worry a bit over the bad.
And maybe that’s okay. And maybe I can do it now and get it out and let it go, and I will learn from the mistakes as much as the good, and, thankfully, I have an extra-gracious family who has loved me through it all. Thankfully. I know there is much to be thankful for. Truly.
So there you have it. It’s all over. And hopefully the crying is over too. Maybe just some tears of joy when I walk the stage on April 26th.