We’re going to miss it this year, Felix and I.
As a household full of kids and teachers, this time of year usually symbolises the ultimate in hysteria, panic and excitement. As I type, I can sense the feeling of utter disbelief and euphoria as the end draws closer. The last Monday of term, the last time I teach that class, the last duty. For the kids it’s when the piles of work come home, and then their PE kit and then the final day arrives. Before then presents have to be bought. Presents and cards for colleagues who are moving on to pastures green and bottles of wine for colleagues who have supported us in the year. Then the annual jaunt with the kids to buy their teacher something entirely unsuitable. The year that will always make me smile was when Felix thought it was absolutely fine to buy his male teacher a fake hairy chest. Brilliant, inspired, unique, just as presents should be!
For some, the end of term feeling may have a sense of sadness about is as the children move onwards and upwards. It may be to a new class, a new school, a new life. The end of the school year is most definitely a rite of passage. The new teacher, the new classroom, the new rules but with it is often a sense of sadness and sentiment about the year that has been. The end of the academic year seems to come around quicker and quicker each year. I can’t believe that it was almost 20 years ago to the day when I was awarded my Qualified Teacher Status. Twenty years ago when I moved to Bournemouth for my first teaching post. Quick, move on before nostalgia sets in!
For us, the end of the academic year isn’t quite as celebratory as usual as we have a few more weeks of intense treatment to go and then a period of recovery. We are all quietly and considerately recognising that the date of our cancelled holiday is imminent. The two weeks in the South of France we work so hard for, to share with our wonderful friends, to rejuvenate our tired souls. We can’t talk about how much we are going to miss those two weeks of carefree indulgence watching our children relax, play and laugh in the sunshine or the warm evenings drinking the cheapest of wine with our dearest of friends. There is no point as is it what it is. Instead we are planning new adventures, closer to home with a different momentum. We will still have fun, new memories will be made and we will cherish our time together recovering from the last six months.
So, as the end of term approaches, I raise my glass to you all and wish you a wonderful summer break which I hope will be full of laughter, leisure and love. Next year, Felix and I will also be swinging from the chandeliers as we welcome the summer holidays. Until then, here’s to a summer full of smiles!