The End of a Chapter

The final bell had sounded. Happy kids fled halls and classrooms, out those double doors. I heard brief conversations: “Call me soon” . . . “Hey, let’s go swimming” . . . “Catch ya later, Dude!” They’d soon return to school, but not to me. I graded final tests and posted grades just as I had for decades, but then came lunchtime with colleagues and unique good-byes, from some I’d seldom see, some not at all— for I would never pass that way again. I filled my car with boxes that contained a plethora of teaching aids, a mass of memories of a career—of my identity since I was twenty-two. Then, through my tears, I took one long last look, and made my way toward my other home.