Today I opened my Majuro box to try and find something I thought might be in there. I ended up going through everything (which is something I usually try to avoid too often). I read a bunch of their journals: about funny things that happened in class, short stories they wrote, 'fessing up to things, funny little pictures about me and my then significant other, pictures the second graders would draw or color for me. It breaks my heart. I still feel everything so deeply. I can't go through that box, even now, almost two years later, without sobbing.
I watched a little video clip I took walking to campus the last day of school, and it's hard to believe that that was me, and that I made that walk every day for almost a year. It still feels dreamy, and not real. I know I took that video, but it feels like I couldn't have, being so far removed now.
I just don't know if this is how it will always be. I wonder if I'll always have to avoid looking at too many of my pictures of my time there, and.....i don't know. Thinking about Majuro makes me fragile. I miss my students more than I thought I possibly could.