End of school is tough on me. The relaxed nature of the kids having fun with their classmates. The feel of summer with kids biking to school, wearing shorts and staying up later than they should. Madox always loved the last few weeks of school, but in elementary, they just had field trips, movies and games. Who wouldn’t love the end of school? Madox shouldn’t be in elementary anymore, he should be finishing up grade 8. Sadly he is forever stuck in grade 3. My mind is a fog.
Last week his classmates all went on the school trip to Quebec. I viewed all the parents posting photos of their kids at the airport; group photos of students pre boarding; then photos the kids sent to their parents during the trip. One by one those photos ripped my heart apart. I was still happy for my friends, for Madox’s friends, to get this amazing experience. I just feel robbed. Where was my excitement standing at the airport with Madox? Where was my fear letting him go onto that airplane without me? Where were my texts and photos of historic sites he has seen? It was taken from us, and I still can’t accept that.
Now today is graduation day for the grade 8 class, Madox’s class. He never made it to this new school, so there is no connection there. The connection is his old classmates and friends. Of Madox not moving onto high school with them all. The missed experience of new things, like writing exams, managing life as the young kids of the school, or trying new sports. That won’t be happening for him, for us. Instead I sit at my computer with tears in my eyes, and a lump in my throat wishing I was at the school right now clapping for each new grad. Laughing at the kids all acting goofy with each other. Listening to the kids figure out who will be in each others classes. Standing with other moms and dads sharing fears and worries about the next year. We don’t get that because Madox died.
Some people act as if life can move on no problem. That we should be able to accept his death by now. He was only 9 years old when he was taken from us. 9 years old! No life experiences were done by 9. Life still continues after 9. How are we as parents suppose to feel when all his friends start to drive? Start to date? Get their first job? Graduate high school and move on to university? We will never accept his death, because there will be too many reminders, too many wonders, and what if’s. My mind is a fog and my heart aches.
I will continue to be happy for all his friends moving into the new waters of life. I will be proud of them, like I would be proud of Madox. I just hope some of his old friends remember him and miss him at grad.