The Sad, Sad Day

There are 180 student school days.  I know this because we count up to 100 on the hundred chart and the backward from 80.  We do this each day at calendar, counting by tens and ones.  It's a way to prepare my little ones for the fact that first grade is only a season and it will eventually end.  This group of children, in particular, don't respond well to surprises or abrupt changes.  So each day we count down.  I'll be the first to admit that I know the count like the back of my hand.

This year I find myself leaving work exhausted, drained of everything, save for a burdened heart.  I am counting the days until summer when I can eat blackberries from my backyard and the only decision I have to make is whether to change out of my pajamas before lunch or after.

But back to the daily calendar countdown.  There we were counting the days left in the school year when a curly mop headed girl raised her hand.

"Mrs. McCauley, is there a First Grade 2?"

"Yes, it's called second grade."  I smiled at her.

"No, I mean like I got to go Kindergarten for one year and then another year.  Can I go to first grade again next year?"  She looked up at me, wiggling a loose tooth with her tongue.

"No, you will be ready to learn second grade things."

"But I'll miss you."

"I'll miss you, too, but you can come and visit me, okay?"

"Can I visit you?"

"Yes."

"Everyday?"

"Everyday."

A boy raised his hand.

"When we count back down to 1, it will be a sad, sad day."

"Yes, but it also means that summer vacation is starting and that's something to be happy about."

"What if I cry?"

"That's okay.  I might cry, too."

And it's true.  I'll probably cry on the last day of school.  Equal parts happy tears and sad ones, too.  Happy that I survived such a difficult year.  Happy that I get time to recharge.  Happy that my little ones made so much growth.  Sad that I couldn't convince some of their parents to consider First Grade 2.  Sad that some of them won't open a book all summer.  Sad that I won't hear their stories or come home with peanut butter on my pants from their sticky hugs.