It hit me yesterday afternoon we have just three months left of this school year. We are on the downward slide towards the end of the year. Why does that freak me out so much? There are so many reasons I’m freaked out. Big Man will graduate from eighth grade. He starts high school in the fall. Little Man finishes his elementary years and will be off to middle school next year. Those two things alone are terrifying and carry so much emotion. My babies are growing up, and it’s happening too quickly. I don’t feel old enough to have a child in high school, a year away from driving. I don’t feel old enough to not have my babies be babies anymore.
What’s really and truly freaking me out is this, as I’m sure I’ve mentioned before, is our last year at our elementary school. I can’t help but be aware of that fact every morning when I drop Little Man off, and every afternoon when I pick him up. Our days are numbered. We will leave this safe, comforting place behind. I can’t imagine not seeing the teachers and staff every day. They took on my babies, and didn’t just teach them, but loved them and brought out the best in them. I don’t know if they are aware how very much they mean to us. I don’t know they know how they’ve impacted our lives. They have helped see us through some of our biggest challenges. They’ve cried with me. They’ve comforted me. They’ve taught me as well. They’ve given my herd a safe place to grow and learn. They’ve looked beyond the surface to find what makes each one of my kids special, what makes them them, and encouraged, cultivated, and inspired. I don’t want to leave that behind.
I can’t even think about our last days without becoming a weeping mess. I know these three months are going to fly by, as they typically do. I will find myself on the other side of the “last day” wondering where it all went. We are staring down a new stage in life, one where elementary school is a memory. I will no longer have “little kids.” There will be no more book fairs to chair, no more FAVE festivals, no more Three Piggy Opera, Apple Valley School days, Pioneer Days, Colonial Days, state capitol tests, salt dough maps, fifth grade musicals and picnics, no more Coyote howls of appreciation and congratulations. (Good golly – I’m getting the keyboard wet with tears already) I take each one of these lasts and treasure them, attempting to draw out every last moment, imprint it upon my brain and heart.
There’s so much I would say to the teachers and staff. I know when it comes to that day, the words will be beyond me. Just know, if you’re part of the RC staff, you’ll always be part of our family, part of our Herd.