Returning Home and Saying Goodbye

Yesterday was the last day of school for the children, but the teachers had one final day today.  The staff had a meeting this morning, but since I've had the pleasure of being at school minus the responsibilities this week, I chose to do so one more day.  So, while the teachers were in their meeting, I wandered the village that had once been my home, happily roaming the streets I knew so well.

Starting by walking up to the High Street past the library, post office, bakery, dry cleaner, market, town hall, pub and a couple restaurants, all that is really needed for a village, I ventured toward the park.  This small village park was once the home of a grand celebration I witnessed, the homecoming parade for Woburn Sands' "Golden Boy," the local hero who won a gold medal in the 2012 London Olympics.  A gold-plated marker in the ground still marks the distance he leapt in the long jump.  The fields across the street, a place where I had enjoyed walks through the snow and a music festival in the summer, had been newly "planted" with sheep.  Graham told me that he had been part of their arrival and how noisy it had been.  Forty sheep bleating their particular cry looking for their lamb upon arrival.  Although a bit, um, sheepish, the sheep seemed happy and contented in their new home, and I was thankful for a few more furry faces to smile at the camera.

I walked on past the fields and the allotments up to the start of the forest where you could see out across the village and the countryside beyond.  The forest had been a place of comfort to me, safe woods where I could wander and play in the snow or go for a morning run through.  Not dressed for a walk through the woods, I sat and admired their beauty on the bench at their entrance, reminiscing about my days here and wondering when I might return again.

Back down into the village, I found the small pathway into the estate (neighborhood) that had taken me months to find.  I walked to the pond in the middle of the estate where I had befriended ducks, and I was sorry I had not thought to stop and get a loaf of bread.  I met a cat along the way, like the many I that had roamed the neighborhood and made me smile two years ago.  Walking up to the flat that had been my home seemed odd, knowing that someone else now called it home and I would never darken the doorstep again.  I looked at the balcony and saw no evidence of the dove family that had lived there and raised little ones there, keeping me company with their gentle cooing.  I took the path back to school that I had taken for a year, feeling at home and not so out of place as I probably seemed.  Hoping, longing to see my old furry friend, Jasper, who greeted me nearly every morning, from my first to my last, on my walk to school.  The ginger cat was no where to be found, so I just hope he was sitting comfortably somewhere in the sunshine.

I made it back to school in time to join in on the picnic (because why would I miss out on a meal or a celebration?).  The faculty was once again treated to a delicious meal to honor the retirees, especially the head and deputy head who were looking forward to traveling after many years in the classroom.  As a treat, a neighbor of Fiona's, brought his Aston Martin to school so the men could be driven off of campus in style, a glorious send off.

My goodbyes were scattered throughout the afternoon as people drifted off from the picnic and then from the pub afterwards.  Saying goodbye to them the first time was terribly difficult.  Saying goodbye a second time was different and difficult.  They meant, and do mean, the world to me.  These people opened their doors and welcomed me in as one of their own for a year, making my year here as wonderful as it was.  When I left before, I knew I'd be back to visit.  But this time, I don't know.  I don't know where life will lead me, and although this place holds a very special place in my heart, there is so much of the world that I want to see that I don't know when life will bring me back here.  In a way today was easier to say goodbye since it had only been a quick visit, but in a way, it was more difficult because, well, I'm just not sure of the road that lies ahead.

But enough of that... :)

To celebrate the end of the school year and to reward ourselves (well, at least Charlotte and Gemma deserved the reward), the girls and I had booked a spa afternoon at a nearby facility.  Centre Parks is a  retreat for families with several such facilities scattered throughout the country.  Sort of like Callaway Gardens in southern Georgia, or perhaps even like the vacation spot Baby's family attended in Dirty Dancing, the huge estate is dotted with cabins, bike trails, swimming pools and activities to entertain families in a safe environment where kids are free to roam about.  There is also, in the middle of it all, a spa.

We had booked access for the afternoon and we used every single minute of it.  Thankful, once again, to have packed my bathing suit, we left the lockers in our robes and bathing suits to explore the two-floor spa facility.  Each room, and there were perhaps a dozen on each floor, had a different setting.  There were dry saunas with peaceful images of wheat and wild flowers dancing on the walls; there were saunas scented with rose petals or dampened with sea salt moisture; there were steam rooms with healing herbs to refresh the lungs; there were foot baths with varying pressures for the feet; there were tranquil rooms where water gently flowed and images of soft skies floated overhead; there were shower walks where varying temperatures and pressures of water surprised you and rejuvenated you; there was an outdoor heated pool where powerful streams of water flowed overhead helping to relax your tense shoulders.  I had two favorite rooms: the mineral room and the fire and ice rooms.  The mineral room was a steam room, and although very warm, unlike some similar rooms, it was a comfortable temperature.  The room was colored with purple, matching the giant tower of amethyst in the center and the air smelled clean and fresh.  The fire room, a dry sauna, warning of high heat, with images of mesmerizing crackling fires was even a bit hot for this southern girl to stand, but the room filled with ice across the hall was a welcome relief when you rubbed handfuls of crushed ice on your sweltering skin.

Sorry that our evening was ending, we soaked in every minute, and probably a bit more than we were supposed to, in the spa and were the last ones to leave the locker rooms.  We left, feeling refreshed, rejuvenated and on a bit of a high as we drove back to Charlotte's house where my eyelids have had trouble remaining open.