I spent an inordinate amount of time this morning, on our last day of school, putting on my make-up.
I shouldn’t have bothered.
In our elementary school we have some wonderful traditions for the end of the year. One of them is somewhat new, and was brought to us by some young and amazing fifth grade teachers.
Two years ago, when Golden Boy was a fifth grade student here in our building, those teachers thought it would be a great “send-off” to have all the children and professionals in the school line the hallways, and have the fifth graders come down the back steps from their rooms, hi-fiving all the members of our school community as they exited the building for the last time.
We did this the first time that year, and I cried like a baby as I watched Golden Boy and his classmates roll out of the school to the cheers and high-fives of our whole, incredible school community.
Today I watched from a different perspective.
This “graduating” class was the first one we had when we entered this new building. They were an amazing group, and each one holds a special place in my heart.
I stood at the end of the hall, the last teacher before they hit the buses. I opened the doors, placed the wooden blocks under all the doors, and turned.
I saw the hallways lined with children and teachers, and felt a hiccup.
I watched as the fifth grade students made their way down the hall past fourth grade, third grade, second grade, and first grade, until they bid farewell to the kindergarten children and kindergarten teachers who were here when they first entered the building – six years ago.
They ended their elementary career - bidding goodbye to the children who were starting theirs, and the teachers who were there from the start.
It was incredible.
I bawled like a baby.