Dear school (teachers and staff),
I’m sorry I didn’t pay attention to our last days together. I had no idea that my 16 years as a mum at our local primary would end like this, none of us did. One minute you were part of life’s fingerprint, the next it was over. Secondary too, but that relationship had never felt quite so intense.
I didn’t get the chance to thank you for all you’ve done for me and my children over the years. Right from that first August day when I brought Boy One and his special educational needs to your door. He was bewildered and I was a scared single parent. He’s at university now. His brothers followed and were met daily by kindness and enthusiasm. If they grumbled about school, it was for form’s sake alone, the same way I might have sighed at yet another fundraiser or sports day. I hope you know we didn’t mean it – not even at the third Wriggly Nativity.
I knew you mattered to the children, especially right now to Boy Three, who’s head is full of all the things he’s lost. You can almost see each ‘never again’ as it drops into his mind. It’s been a cruel few days.
Of course, we’re lucky, relatively blessed, with our full freezer, employment contracts and general good health, and all, but I’m still sad for my grieving little boy… and for myself. It shouldn’t be a surprise, really. From Boy One’s first day, I have felt that I wasn’t bringing my kids up on my own.
Thank you for everything you’ve done for us all, we’ll miss you.
The first day of school photo: we don’t have a last day one to go with it.