The Reveal

A fairly substantial quantity of angst goes into sharing news that is both embarrassing and unavoidable. As the school year began to come to a close and year end conferences bled into curious discussions about next year's teacher assignments, the inevitable reveal was impending. The conversations were fairly consistent:

"So what grade will your kids be in next year?"

"3rd, 1st and K!"

"Wow - what teachers are you thinking you'll have?"

"Oh - um, we won't be here next year..."

(uncomfortable silence)

"Oh no! What? Where are you going? Why?!"

"We're going just across the street to the new elementary school - it looks great and will be so much more affordable for us. So hard to leave here but we just have to give it try."

Now it became most interesting and, indeed, most revealing about the nature of the conversational partner and a somewhat engaging portrait of their relationship with our family. Listed in order of frequency of conversational debut:

1. "We thought about that too but just couldn't leave. It's so hard to get in here after all..."

2. "I'm sure it will be fine, I hear good things..."

3. (leaning on BMW X3 while holding keys to multimillion dollar mansion) "Tuition is so outrageous - it's so hard to stomach that bill"

4. "Wow. Stay in touch OK. Thank goodness for facebook"

Of course, there was an occasional "Johnny will miss Debby" but the horror that the choice implied was indisputable and the shock was a conversation stopper with even the closest of friends.

Because of being totally stuck, the rounded eyeballs brewing with terror and pity fell on deaf ears. I was righteous in the choice, smiling with assuredness knowing that I could bemoan my situation with a tear or two in the car later.

Why new beginnings always signal an ending is one of those bittersweet mysteries that I'm not thinking I'll solve. The school year ended as they will, and the sunny sunny summer of change commenced with the promise of making new friends and keeping the old.