Skip to main content

The end

Today was the last day of school. Well at least for the kids. This finality is always one of my favorite parts of my job. In May ( or June) you are done. 100% finished. Grades are exported, pictures are taken off of shelves books are turned in. Everyone goes their own seperate way for at least a few months. When we do come back we will all be starting fresh. How many other times in life do we get to be completely finished and start new after a nice long break?

The end always manages to sneak up on me. Sure my beakers are washed and my filing cabinet partially cleaned out........but I mean with the kids. They sit there and I realize about 5 minutes before the bell that this is it. Sure I am ready to be rid of them, but still get a bit sappy. Our year together is over. Most of them will never sit in my desks again. They are young and bright and some will do amazing things. Some will do really stupid things. And some will do both. I want to say more. To do more. To give them all some kind of award.........well most of them. But the bell is about to ring. They are rowdy and I just mumble out some dumb have a nice summer, be safe kind of things.

They file out quickly. Some of them give hugs or gifts or remember to say thank you. But most just fall in line behind their friends. I head back to my computer to finish up their grades and hope that they all find their way back.

Comments

Alyssa said…
Definitely a bittersweet time. Glad you captured it!
June 4, 2008 at 6:08 PM
spaghettipie said…
I love how sentimental you are sometimes!

I, for one, I am super excited about you being off for the summer. Now just hurry up and finish grades and vacation plans so we can play!
June 4, 2008 at 9:28 PM
Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

pace yourself

Tonight I went running with a friend ten years my junior. I asked her how far she was running and when she said only about 1.5 or 2 miles, I teased her that I could go at least twice that far. And to just let me know when she needed to stop. I have been running pretty regularly for the last few weeks. It isn’t long but keep increasing my time and distance. I’ve stopped getting blisters. I don’t suck wind after five minutes anymore and I was feeling pretty good about myself. Thinking I might even be able to out run this girl who was so much younger and obviously in more shape than me. As we started to jog I told her that I run pretty slow. Like my husband used to walk beside me while I ran, slow. And she slowed her gait a little bit for me but it was still faster than I usually go. I was a little embarrassed and was not going to ask her to slow down again. So I just ran at her pace. I stayed close. And was fading fast. A little over a mile in I was ready to quit. Again, pride, which isn...
14 comments
Read more

pursue something else.

Americans like the idea of happy. of pursuing happiness. It is even one of our inalienable rights at least according to the Declaration of Independance. But I think maybe we should pursue something else. like love or joy or peace or contentment. and leave happy alone. Don't read me wrong. I am neither bitter nor cynical. Even my problems are good problems. I am positive. Half full. And most days I laugh a whole lot more than I cry. And simple things like a dance party in the living room, an hour alone in Barnes and Noble, the yellow pajama pants my son picked out for me for mother's day, potstickers, clean sheets, someone surprising me with coffee, jeans fresh from the dryer, a good song on the radio, or squeals of delight when I walk in the door all make my heart sing. They make me happy. For a minute. But when the squealing turns to screaming, my new pants are dirty, the sheets are in a jumble on the floor or the coffee runs out....where does that leave me? And happy isn'...
22 comments
Read more

my first dance

My wedding day is a little bit of a blur. And it was a great day. But so many people and so much going on and so many moments that it is hard to remember them all clearly without the help of photographs. But I totally remember my first dance as a bride. And it wasn’t with my husband. Or even my father, or brother. I had quickly kicked off my heels and hid them underneath a table. Said my hellos and hugs and smiled until my face hurt. Someone ushered us through the buffet line and I piled my plate with hors d'oeuvres and headed to a table. But before I could pop a single shrimp in my mouth someone grabbed me firmly by the arm and pulled me onto the dance floor and into a jitterbug before I could protest. It was my husband’s granddaddy. A man I had only met about a few times and heard say about as many words. So I was a little surprised when he spun me around the dance floor. Eventually that night I danced with my husband. And my dad. And probably even my brother. But my fir...
8 comments
Read more