Saying Goodbye

I have four days left at Central; four days left after spending four years there. It is strange. I think I began "processing" this as a fact (rather than a hypothetical situation) this weekend and it resulted in more than seven hours of naps. I didn't want to deal with what I have to do...

How do you go about saying "goodbye" to a school, to a staff, to a group of kids? I would be lying if I said that it was "just a job" or if I said it doesn't hurt. My life has been wrapped around that school for the past 1,460 days.

I feel like I grew up in Room 410 and on the beautiful Central campus. I have such a strong support system of fellow teachers that I cannot see myself successful without them. We've celebrated birthdays, weddings, babies. We've cried and supported each other through deaths and illnesses. We've joked and laughed through hours of meetings and crazy twelve-year-olds. We've encouraged each other when testing and pressure from above was unbearable. Most important, we've loved each other.

Although most people wouldn't expect it of me, I'm a crier. I have shed so many tears over this move, it doesn't seem like there should be any more to shed, yet they fall.

Tomorrow, I have to tell my yearbook students that I will not be back for them next year. I'm sure anger will be their first emotion and I'm prepare for it, but tears, oh, they will keep falling if I see tears from them. I know I haven't birthed them, nor seen them grow from infancy, but the last year I've spent with my seventh graders qualifies them as my babies. I am filled with overwhelming grief that I have to say goodbye to them and leave them in a stranger’s hand. It sounds silly, but I've been praying for weeks that who ever takes over yearbook next year will love them for me and give them what they deserve.

I wish there were rules for saying goodbye...