Yesterday was my last day of work at a job I've had for about 3 and a half years.  I've always known that when the final day actually came I would have a really hard time leaving.  I've loved that job and the company that I worked for very much and I'm a very different person because of my experiences there.  I've had to grow up quite a bit and learn to take on some very unique responsibilities and challenges (some of you are shaking your heads in memory of all of my previous work posts involving some of the ridiculous things I've spent my time at work doing; I won't try to convince you either way).

I worked at a bank and helped open a new branch in Lindon at the end of 2005.  I still remember so well how nervous I was.  I remember going and seeing the building before construction was completed.  I remember helping organize and advertise and prepare the branch to be introduced to the community.  I remember the small group of us (most of whom had no idea what we were doing) trying to build that branch into something to be proud of.  It seems so long ago to me now.  We worked so hard to create business and turn that place into something that I was really proud of.  I remember 2 or 3 years later being so amazed when thinking about how far we had come and how well we were functioning.  There were a lot of really hard and frustrating days.  A lot of really sad experiences along the way.  A lot of really great friendships built.  A lot of funny and touching experiences I'll take with me for the rest of my life.

Because the company was bought by another company several months ago, our little branch has slowly been going through some changes since.  This weekend they finally started remodeling the branch (a massive remodel--knocking down walls and so forth).  So I spent my last day doing the exact opposite of my first; I helped throw things away and rip things down to prepare the branch to change into something entirely new.  It was really fitting I suppose to be going through all the little reminders on my last day of experiences we had had throughout these last few years.

Nonetheless, I couldn't help but feel incredibly nostalgic and a bit sad as I dejunked and prepared to leave.  For a few hours, all the unbelievable stress of finals and preparing to fly out for the summer went to the back burner while I had some good reflective time.  The moment wasn't even ruined by my boss who, as his last words, said "thanks for all the effort. Don't let the door hit you on the way out" accompanied by a loud cackling laugh (Meryl always knows how to create special memories).

I'm always waiting for this point in life where I no longer have to learn how to move on and deal with change.  But I'm finding that as I get older, not only do the changes happen with more regularity, but they are also more significant.  Maybe before too long that will slow down.  Or maybe it will just keep precipitating into something more and more dramatic.  Either way, I hope that through all the change I never become calloused enough to stop appreciating the fact that I still have things in my life that I'm sad to see go.

~It Just Gets Stranger