In July 2011 I sat outside my boys primary school. I was waiting for them to finish. It was their last day. They had been there 4 years, since I had adopted them. I looked at each of the doors leading from the class rooms. Each of the doors opened sad and unhappy memories. There were some good memories, but I couldn’t remember them that day. I felt overwhelming loneliness sat there. The boys came out, we felt no sadness that they were leaving. We went home, and got on with the next chapter of lives.
Tomorrow is their last day again. They finish high school. I am going to struggle. The boys will be fine, they are ready for their next chapter. I feel a sense of over whelming pride. Despite advice against a mainstream school, they have succeeded. They have their issues, my god, they have had their issues! They have challenged the professionals to their core. Each and everyone of the staff has stood by my children. They have challenged them. They have cried with them, and for them. They have laughed with them (sometimes hysterically!). They have taught my children that adults can be trusted, and can be reliable. My children have seen that life is rough, blooming rough sometimes, but the adults will stand by them. The staff have shown my children they will respect them and they will understand them. They have not restrained them, hurt them or scared them. They have been consistent and compassionate. They have empathised and sympathised.
Thank you for giving us so many joyous, proud and inspiring memories. We are ready for the next bit (even if I will be in an emotional heap – at least allow me that!). Thank you from me, and especially, from them.