Last Friday I experienced something I didn’t know I lacking, but needed: closure. You probably read me rambling about some decisions I made in the past year. The truth is, although I told myself to accept my own decisions and not look back, I couldn’t help but do it. All the time.
To be a bit more specific, I left a job I loved. A
community I love, because schools are more than just work environments. You
meet fantastic people, big and small (literally) and they can’t help but touch
your life.
My main issue was that I never thought I would
actually leave. I was well adapted, confident in how well I was doing and very
much dreaming about staying until retirement rolled around. And then, through
several events and circumstances, I had to
make the decision to leave. It didn’t feel much like a choice, it felt like an obligation.
I cannot express the support I got from my coworkers
and supervisors. You see, I didn’t only leave; I left in the middle of the
school year. I felt like a traitor. A deserter.
And they showed me love that made me see they thought nothing of the
like about me.
Last week I got to go back. I secretly wanted to, but
felt awkward about it. Thankfully, I got an invitation from my former boss to
come, because my kids needed closure. So I went, loaded with home baked sugar
cookies made with love.
I left home at 5.45am and took an hour and a half to
get there. Nice reminder of why it just didn’t work. But as soon as I turned
onto the main street that leads to the school, the waterworks began. I met my
former coworkers outside and again, couldn’t help it. Went inside and saw some
more teachers and my former boss, and again the tears flowed.
I managed to hold it when I was with the kids. All
smiles. All about happiness. And they blew me away. Some were so much bigger
after three months. Some were more mature. And they blew me away with their
enthusiasm, love and behavior.
Their new teacher is fantastic, and the only reason
why I considered leaving was because I knew she could step in. She told the
kids to ask me questions, and I froze. Why
did you leave us? Do you not love us? was going through my mind. None of
that. They wanted to know about my new school, new students, and got a huge
laugh to know that I am now surrounded by little kids and being called Miss
Julie instead of Mrs. Jordão.
I am not sure they needed closure. Kids are resilient.
Grownups, not so much. That’s why I was so thankful, because this half an hour
truly allowed me to see that life goes on. And that although all kids are special, these will forever
have a special place in my heart. Every single one of them.
