Today was my last day at home for 8 weeks. Right now, 8 weeks seems like a long time, even though the past four went by so darn quickly. I hardly feel like it’s time to hop on a plane to head back to school tomorrow.
I jumped on the I-saw-Les-Mis-and-cried bandwagon today. It seems like it’s an epidemic, that the story and music and emotion of it all spreads the tears around like germs. It was worth crying over though. Yes, the music was great, and the love story was nice. But beyond that, it was a story of redemption and justice and grace. If only all the women in the world today who find themselves in Fantine’s position had someone like Jean Valjean to give them dignity and take care of them. If only the man who hunted Jean Valjean down all those years could accept the grace offered to him and live in it.
I think most of us can connect with Fantine’s song, “I dreamed a dream,” because we, too, have dreamed and continue to dream of a world where things are different. Even just the little things. I dreamed a dream of a time where I didn’t get sick every time a cold came to town. I dreamed a dream of better cafeteria food. I dreamed a dream of a future where we all stand up to injustice.
Speaking of dreaming, it’s time for me to do that literally. To take one last sleep in Minnesota before I say goodbye and travel with Bunny and Jesus back to Chicago.