My boss moved into the office next to me. So she had to clean out 15 years of accumulated "stuff" from her old office. I felt ashamed of my messy office, so decided to clean it. Everyone thought I was moving too because I had things stacked everywhere. Had to get rid of a nice credenza to bring in two more file cabinets. Too bad.
Today I found something from 2001. Right before I moved back here I'd started a non-fiction book. Very unlike me, because I enjoy writing mysteries (not-so-good ones at that). The stuff I'd written brought my cleaning and organizing to a stand-still, as I sat on the floor reading.
Nostalgia flooded over me as I read. And somehow a sense of loss wiggled into my heart. Not loss for my old job, because I'm happy here. But I really feel the loss of the prison ministry that was such a huge part of my life in St. Louis. The Writers' Club, The Hamlet Project, REC, and more. I did so much volunteer work in maximum security that it was like I was finally eligible for parole. :)
But I really miss that. I made an impact on people's lives, they made one on mine as well. Now, my life consists of work and comedy, and sometimes trips to see my family. It's like a different me. Not bad, just different.