Endings…

Sometimes you know the end is coming. For example, I know that Covid bubbles permitting, I now have just 9 mornings of walking my son to primary school left. Nine mornings of seeing where the baby sparrows have gone today, nine mornings of counting cats (if there is one he wins, zero I win, two his Dad wins… record is five…) and nine mornings of my hand being dropped at a certain point as he whispers “School Zone now Mum”.

Other times you don’t know it’s the end until after it happens! Who knew that the sports day we attended two years ago that we knew was the last one we would attend with our older son would actually also be the last one we attended with our younger one. Obviously the pandemic has brought many unexpected endings for many people – and missing out on sports day is relatively minor compared to losing loved ones, or your own physical and mental health.

But endings big or small are important. We need to be able to have an end before moving on to the next thing. Sometimes they are clear, sometimes they are blurry, sometimes we only recognise them after the event, but what I’ve learnt recently is that without some sort of recognition of that ending (even after the event), the next stages are much harder. It doesn’t have to be a party or big deal (though if that’s your thing, go for it – safely of course) but acknowledging a change or transition, remembering the good things, and learning from the experience definitely allows me to move on in a more positive frame of mind. There have been a number of endings in my life that I haven’t really dealt with in that way, and I need to work my way through those to free up some mental space and find some peace. I am determined not to add another less-than-dealt-with ending to the list, even though it’s hard to think about and feels like it will take time that I just don’t have right now.

What’s making these last two weeks of primary school harder for all of us is that for obvious reasons, those staging points aren’t as we’d expected them to be. School is doing a fantastic job of helping the Year 6s move on given the circumstances but for us as parents leaving a school we’ve been with for 9 years, we’re missing out on our “proper” goodbyes. No sports day or summer fair, the Year 6 production is being filmed instead of us being there, and we are encouraged to pick up away from the playground so we might not even get to see them all say goodbye, shirts covered in ink.

So what to do? Well, I’m planning on writing a letter to the school saying thank you obviously, and making a donation to be spent on something to improve the facilities for staff. I’ve been collecting science and diversity books to give to the library and there will be the usual farewell present for the teacher. The emotional side is harder. I know I’m going to be a mass of emotions on the last day (I already have a lump in my throat writing this). What I learnt from two years ago when my older son left, is that sharing a bit of this with him, rather than being endlessly positive, was helpful all round. So we’ll probably end up laughing and crying as we remember the fantastic time he’s had there and the brilliant things he’s learned. I’ll try to get him to write them down (though realistically it will be me doing that), to keep as he goes on his next adventure. We’ll have a family meal out at some point in the next week or so, as we do at the end of every school year. And then we’ll be looking forward and moving on. After all, it’s only a chapter that’s ending, the book continues.