I gaze out the window at the Toledo train station, watching the rain bead off the windows. The train has been in the station for a while -- a half hour, a day, forever -- I'm too tired to figure it out.
This train ride will carry me from the joy of discovering home to the duty of another year teaching college. It will be my 21st year at Northwest. One of my first students is sending her kid to college. I still feel like I’m in my thirties despite my arthritis, and all my memories jumble into a timeless mist.
I will return to an abrupt transition to beginning of the school year meetings. But for now, I’m on the train, in-between everything.
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