
Yesterday was the last day of the year at “my school.” It’s been seven years since I retired from that school, which is also the school my children attended. It will always be my school, though.
Every time I head north out of my subdivision, I pass the building. I look to see how many cars are in the lot. If my destination dictates a west turn at the corner, I can check the field and playground to see if kids are out. After seven years, I’m past the days of looking to see whose cars are on the lot. In that time many teachers have moved on to other buildings and many have retired. One of the new teachers is a former neighbor who attended the school as a child. Sadly, a teacher I knew, a woman much younger than myself, died this year. Those teachers I still know…
View original post 616 more words