“Make me proud” said her aide, as she squeezed her tight.
A few kind words, some awkward but sincere hugs and then it was done.
Bag packed, locker cleaned out and one final check of the lost and found. A stop by the office for some administration odds and ends.
A friend grabbing one last hug and a mutual jump in a puddle; splashing their uniforms in the way you can only do on the final day of term.
Walking out she cried. I didn’t expect it, nor was I prepared for it. She’s not an emotional crier; she’s more a shouty type. But here they were, big fat tears rolling down her cheeks. And as quickly as they’d arrived, they were gone.
Of course it was too late. My own tears, held in check until that point were unleashed in ugly sobs.
So sad that we couldn’t make it work. So sad that this school, the one we were so proud to be a part of, was no longer ours. So sad, knowing we have a hard road ahead of us settling her into a new school. But a new school; new opportunities and a new home for our gorgeous girl.
I know she’ll make me proud. She will make us all proud.
She asked me if I was sad, or were they happy tears.
Both, I said.