They ask me every year, as the graduation ceremony looms mere days away, as the finality of it all becomes immediate and real, as the things-to-do list sits oddly empty, as the tethers and ties wisp and unfurl until the last tenuous string comes loose and there’s really nothing more here except the wide open door to the future. They ask in earnest, with a little bit of hope stirred in, because no one wants to be forgotten and everyone wants to be known, even for a little while. They ask, “Will you miss us?” And I pause a little bit before I answer.
David and Noah each taught me different songs this year. David introduced me to Kanye’s Runaway. Angst-ridden and self-loathing, the narrator encourages loved ones to flee from his self-destructive behaviour. Noah recommended Noah Kahan’s Stick Season. It’s a typical forlorn and hurting love song taking place in Vermont. Aside from the great music, the songs speak truly, not just of the teenage experience, but what many of us go through at different times of our lives. I’m so glad they brought something new to me.
Emma and Ava, no, not the twins –although they might as well be– could while away a lunchtime talking about things that are happening in their lives. Perhaps it’s a disastrous flooding at home which results in no running water for a while. Maybe it’s an unsporting opponent taking liberties during a basketball game, or a rundown of Formula One races. Conversation topics swing and turn, but I’m happy they’ve made lunch times that much more.
Logan has been the grist and source for my blog all year long. Huffy rants and outrages and 7am Pilates and Lagree sessions may seem to dominate the discussion. But add in partners in crime like Cindy or Rachel or Cadence, and it just gets weirder and wonderous, and suddenly, I’m watching a video of someone in the dark googling “New England”, a closeup of a face, and the person says “woah” upon the discovery it’s not in England. I know I’m not going to see this in my everyday life so it’s a fun bit worthy of treasuring.
Addison, Callum, and Libby are telling me the lengths they’ll go to win Spy vs Spy. It’s a friendly competition, but not really, because they want to win. There’s real, 3D chess-like strategy involved, including alliances and possible betrayal. The ending involved a furtive getaway at the airport while wearing a top hat. I don’t think any games I play can be better than that.
Sophia and Emma pretty much drive me mad with wonky behaviour on a regular day in class. But when they start asking deep questions and start analyzing a wrong multiple-choice question, I start to marvel at their industriousness and academic dedication to understanding. They make working hard the norm and the standard, and when a lesson goes sideways, I think of how awesome students can be.
Katie and Zach are plain old Canucks fans to the core. My goodness, I think; they weren’t alive for the ’82 and ’94 runs, and were little kids for the ’11 run. This team may have broken my heart and spirit multiple times, but here they are, experiencing a good playoff for the first time. Unjaded, hopeful, and going through the tumultuous highs and lows of a run, I see them cheer their hearts out and it makes that “We are all Canucks” motto really sparkle.
When it’s all over, everyone exits the upper gym triumphantly, and there’s joyous cacophony and excited bustle, and laughter and hugs abound. Family tug at them for pictures, refreshments are gulped down, and there’s chatter of how it all went and where are we going to eat and we’re so glad it’s over. After the congratulations and the well wishes, I like to take my leave a little early. Taking my time, going up those stairs to the senior school, I turn for one last look. There they are. Observing them in their gowns, adults and alumni now, closing this door and opening that one, I see the unwritten stories to be told. But before all that, before the shiny future beckons, for a brief, tiny tick, I give a little smile for the remembrances of these past years and for the things we did and for the things that happened and for the teaching and the giving on both sides.
Will I miss you?
Yeah, I will.
We had a good run, didn’t we?
Goodbye, and good luck.