Not sure if anyone else can attest to this, but it seems that the very end of a countdown might possibly be the hardest part of the whole darned experience.
In high school it's Senioritis.
In pregnancy it's those last weeks of waiting and wishing for the baby to arrive.
In planning a big move it's the boxes and the arrangements and the cleaning and the uncertainty of what lies ahead.
In grad school—I can't quite put my finger on it—but something about this whole thing drawing to an end is wearing on the psyche of everyone in this house.
We've done this for four long years now, but these last few weeks seem like they might never end. Like life might possibly carry-on this way forever.
But just as high school, pregnancy and labor, and packing boxes do not last forever, in the same way I know that the endless hours of studying and projects and small groups and fatigue will also come to an end.
It just can't be soon enough.
Until then, I dream myself away to a warm beach where I do this for hours on end:
Instead of being irritated that my six year old son's "Quite Place" is on rooftops, I'll let this be a good reminder that we can all take a moment to bask in the sun.
And feel the warmth.
And embrace the wind.
And picture in our minds a scene on a tropical beach somewhere with a margarita in hand and sand at foot.
For this is my "Special Place". And you will find me rehearsing "Special Place" quite frequently over the course of the next seven weeks. Hallelujah "Special Place"!
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Until then... the good stuff. Take it away Kenny.
Kenny Chesney - The Good Stuff
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