Staring out the window, I watch the raindrops dripping off the leaves and settling in a huge puddle under the tree. I’m thinking about the assignment I need to finish for next week. I can smell the scent of the old books sitting on the desk in front of me. I get lost in thought at the library and my mind spins off in many different directions. Sometimes I just can’t seem to focus on the task before me.
I’m distracted by the other students. I feel out of place. What am I doing here? I’m what is called a “non-traditional” student. I’m old, and I have five children and a husband at home. I’m so excited to be back in school after fifteen years of thinking my brain had become mush. I like to learn and think about the things that are out there in the world.
I’ve sent away for copies of research articles by others for my topic, which is English Literature. I ask the library assistant, “How long will this take?” She tells me, “Hopefully, by Friday.” It’s Tuesday. Now I must wait. I go back to the stacks to find other books with any references regarding my subject. I find a couple articles and I make copies at the copy machine. I begin the trek home with my pile of papers, notebooks and textbooks. I’ll be back in a couple of days to continue my class and library adventure.
***
Back in the library after my most recent class, I sit at the study desk by the window with the view I like the best. It’s another grey, misty day, but I do not care. I am in the university library and in my escape zone. I have carried some heavy reference books to my desk. I like the feel of their cloth covers. Turning the pages carefully, I focus on the images of people from the distant past, studying clothing and facial expressions. I wonder how they perceived their lives and situations. I’m researching the life and times of Jane Austin for my English Literature class. I love her books and characters. The late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries in England were very fascinating with their social quirks and particular customs. The way she ‘tells it like it was’ makes me smile. And we share the same birthday, December sixteenth!
I think about my situation, my routine. I’m in school a couple days a week. I get three kids on the bus first thing in the morning. I take my infant to a sitter and drop off my preschooler at preschool. I drive to another town for class and then have a magical thirty minutes after class to go to the library. I must race to pick up my preschooler and infant at the sitter so I can be home when my kindergartener gets off the bus at noon.
Oh, that magical time in the library! It is so important to me now. It gives me a chance to have access to materials to enrich my mind, but more importantly, I can daydream there. Sometimes I pretend I’m free, I even think about running away. I have no idea where I would go—but that is not quite true. Italy would be wonderful, but I don’t speak Italian. Anywhere in Great Britain is a close runner-up. I wouldn’t have to work too hard on the language. I could visit where Jane Austin lived and places she talked about in her stories.
***
I see an acquaintance from my class at the library and when she asks me “Would you like to go for coffee and a bagel at the student cafeteria?” I have to say, “Sorry, I need to get home.” I can’t tell her the real reason: That I have no money, only a driver’s license and student I.D. in my wallet. I don’t tell her that I’m at this fancy university on a Pell Grant and student loan. Classes I took for credit years ago from University of California at Davis, and several community colleges, all transferred here so I’m here as a Junior. I know I will need to limp along taking only one or two classes a semester because of my life’s reality. But I am determined. I can see college graduation in my foreseeable future.
I tell myself over and over that this dream I have had for so long is within my grasp. However, I now have a nightmare in the mix too: That Multiple Sclerosis will take me down before I get to walk to the podium for that diploma. This raging reality is constantly on my mind. Numbness, fatigue, and vision problems come and go. There are times I sit in despair, thinking my life will never be the same. Wondering what is going to happen. Having been diagnosed in October 1981, there are no treatments for MS on the horizon. Things I read in this library are not very encouraging. I cling tenaciously to my neurologist’s prognosis of a mild course and minor disability. But who knows what the future will hold.
In the meantime, I will study and spend time in the library looking for answers and information. I will look out the window from my favorite seat and enjoy watching the seasons change on the beautiful campus grounds. My professors will share their knowledge. I will do my best to seize this opportunity to reach my goal.
Right now, my biggest concern is this English paper and waiting for the information coming from a university across the country. My other great concern of the day is “what in the world am I going to make for dinner tonight?”
Author: Evelyn Panfili
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