Letter to the Editor: Heavy Goodbyes

A profound sadness swept over me as I walked through those heavy glass doors.  The same doors I loathed during the icy winters and torrential rains we've suffered in Deerfield these past few years.  The doors that seemed to never "buzz" open quickly enough for me and closed on me too quickly when my arms were loaded with various foodstuffs and forgotten backpacks, water bottles and homework projects left behind in the mudroom all too often.

Today those doors represented something different.  Yes, they were still heavy, but somehow as I opened them for the very last time, retrieving my 5th grader on the last day of elementary school, the heaviness didn't come from the doors, but from my saddened heart that began to surprisingly beat extra hard reminding me that I might want to get that checked out, seeing as my son wasn't the only one growing a bit older these days.

Yes, these five years had come and gone quicker than I could ever remember  the years passing by in my own youth, as those seemed to drag on and on as I awaited the birth of my own children and their monumental "first days of school". 

I was startled by the buzz of the final "bell" of the day, this being the last ever for elementary school, and it woke me from a rather dreamlike state of reminiscence and nostalgia as I saw my boy...my "baby", running up to me with arms full of a year's worth of desk and locker stuffings tumbling out all around him, that dreaded, often forgotten water bottle spilling out all over his shirt and a big smile, partly of relief, partly of  summertime thoughts that all boys  his age hope for all year...and no more so than this very day.

I couldn't help but giggle and assist him in his seemingly endless struggle of juggling and balancing a load that would boggle a college grad...most of which was not academic, but riddled with sports equipment, toys and various old clothing that somehow mysteriously never showed up in the laundry basket the entire school year.

This time as we delivered our final teacher gifts, I found myself truly grateful for a wonderful group of educators that nurtured and struggled with my son through thick and thin, happy and sad, accomplishments and frustrations.  We moved swiftly through the many inner doors, light and airy, many with windows in which I'd "peeked" in over the years to view my little learner in his best and worst without him every knowing mom "was always watching" as I'd warned him from the first day of kindergarten.

Goodbyes this last time were more painful than years before.  They brought on more of a sting.  Knowing I would never again venture down these hallways, view the glorious art work adorning the walls,  or return a heartfelt smile to a previous teacher of whom my son was well attached and of whom I was forever  indebted.

As we made our rounds back to that front door, I saw many a fifth grader waving, running, stumbling by with bundles of their own  memorabilia, hurriedly moving to grab the bus, meet a friend or catch up to their own mom who most likely awaited their appearance as anxiously as I had on this bittersweet day.

But as I moved through that big, heavy glass door for the final time, a wave of peace swept over me.  I realized that all the hopes I had for my son had been accomplished in those short 5 years.  He emerged on his final day smiling, vibrant, joyful...whole.  Each day I entrusted whomever and whatever lie behind those heavy, glass doors with my precious boy, and was delivered a more mature, thoughtful and very much encouraged "tween" now fully ready to take on middle school and all of life's new challenges that await behind the new, heavy glass doors of middle school. 

The problem remains that I'm not sure if I'm ready for the next blast of cold winters and rainy seasons ahead.  I know he will most definitely do well and attain success as a result of what he has received.

 ...God bless you, my son and God Bless Wilmot Elementary.

Terri Belsanti-Epstein, Wilmot Parent

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