As regular readers will have noticed, it has been quite a while since my last blog post. That last post – As The Wife Of A Husband With Depression – really blew me away with regards to the response. I wrote it merely to vent my spleen over how I was feeling, never expecting it to touch so many people and for people to be so kind, encouraging and open in their responses. Since then, I have been somewhat quiet. Well, insofar as blogging goes anyway. Away from the blogosphere (is that even a word?) I have been anything but.
On March 4, 2017, I began a TEFL training course. For those not au fait with the parlance, TEFL stands for Teaching English as a Foreign Language. Were I to pass, I would then be fully qualified to teach English to foreign students, with a diploma that is recognised all over the world. My dear readers, I’m sure you’ll be as thrilled as I am to know that I did indeed pass, with an overall score of 94%! As soon as I received the news, I went into our study where my husband was and, a little shakily, said “I’m a qualified English teacher!” He hugged me so tightly that I felt as if I couldn’t breathe. Then he asked “What time is it?” I told him it was 7:20 p.m “Great!” he exclaimed, “That means the supermarket will still be open. I’ll be back in a few minutes!” And with that he rushed out of the door, while I called my Mum and Dad to give them the good news. A few minutes later, my husband came back, bearing a congratulations card and a bottle of champagne. “I’m so proud of you” he told me. Honestly, I could have cried.
Since then, we have been busy little bees, making plans about what to do with my new qualification. I decided that I would follow it up by learning Italian. We have long since held a candle for Italy, and in fact were all ready and due to move there a couple of years ago, before fate took the reigns and everything fell through. Now, Italy is once again in our line of sight. If I can learn Italian, when added to the fact that I can already speak Dutch and am a fully qualified TEFL teacher and have a BA in English Language and Literature, it would all hopefully combine to put me at the forefront of the hotly contested English teaching job market.
All our plans will of course require dedication and hard work, but isn’t that the same with any plans of importance?
Both my husband and I are excited about the future, although I don’t mind admitting that such excitement is tinged with a little trepidation. After all, it’s a major life change that we are planning to embark on, the likes of which we have not done for almost nineteen years, since we made the decision to up sticks from the UK and move to Belgium. But if your dream doesn’t scare you, it’s not big enough, isn’t that how the saying goes?
As I look around us right now, I see a great many changes. Our best friend, who just a few years ago would have gone along with the description of himself as a Lothario, or a Don Juan, is, even as I write this, moving from the UK to the United States and is due to get married next Monday in Las Vegas. Other more distant friends and still more distant acquaintances, have found themselves either on the wrong side of the law or facing life-changing health issues. One of my aunts, the wittiest and most vitally vibrant woman I have ever known, is in the cruel grip of Alzheimer’s and now requires 24-hour care. Everything is in flux and sometimes I feel as if the only thing we can ever be sure of, is that we are never sure of anything.
I refuse to end on a bum note though. Change is a good thing. It keeps us on our toes and helps us to grow. Just as a river would become stagnant if its waters were not constantly changing, so too would our lives stagnate if we did not embrace change. Nothing changes by staying the same, and, no matter what, I will always choose to live my life in the front row.