Greg walked in the door yesterday after school and announced, "I only have eight more days of school!" That's eight more days of public school. Two weeks from tomorrow he will officially graduate, leaving behind the routines that have governed his life for the last thirteen years. Think about that -- Greg (and the rest of the Class of 2010) has spent most of his life in school. Seven hours a day, five days a week, nine months of the year. By my estimation, he has eaten more than 2,000 school lunches. He went through at least five backpacks; I can't even begin to guess how many pencils or how many sheets of notebook paper.
Even Greg noted how odd it seems to be coming to the end of an entire stage of life. Although, truth be told, he checked out weeks ago. Like all graduating seniors, Greg has been on cruise-control for the entire last quarter of school. He already has one foot in the door at college, having completed enrollment at Johnson County Community College for this fall. All that's left to do now is pay tuition.
And that's it. Presto -- as one phase of his life is ending, the next is beginning. It's an almost seamless transition, maybe more so in Greg's case because he isn't leaving home just yet. He plans to attend JCCC for two years and then transfer to a four-year college, most likely the University of Kansas. He will be living at home, so it won't be such a huge upheaval. In our case, Steve and I can expect a delay in "Empty Nest Syndrome." In the meantime, the graduation announcements have been mailed and a family celebration planned. All that remains for Greg is finals week, the Senior Picnic, and Commencement itself. In just two weeks, it will all be over.
It's not just Greg who will be moving on. Since he's our only child, it also means that Steve and I will no longer be directly involved in our child's schooling. Oh, I'll still have ties to the Olathe school district through my private flute students and my part time position as a tutor in the AVID program. But it won't be quite the same. I'll miss the interaction with Greg's teachers; from now on, his progress will be largely between him and his professors -- no more progress reports addressed to "The Parents of Greg Smith." I'll kind of miss signing field trip permission slips. Kind of. I won't miss receiving an email update of Greg's lunch account balance every Thursday. And, since Greg's earliest class at JCCC will be at 9:00 a.m., I'm looking forward to sleeping a little later before I have to get up and make sure he's awake. (Look, I'm a realist -- Greg's a sound sleeper in the habit of hitting the snooze button multiple times and then dozing off. I'm his backup alarm.)
So. Eight more days. (Sigh.)
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