The best and hardest day

I thought about titling this post "A little bit of a broken heart, part II (or, Jack's last day of school)". But it was such a GOOD day. Just a hard one. For all of us. So this is what you get -- our best and hardest day.

Jack summed up our sentiments so well tonight when he fell into bed exhausted at 10:30 or so. His eyes were tired but some of the red was from tears, I knew. As I hugged him, he said: "I wish we could just go back, like 50 times, and start it all over again."

Tonight's party?, I asked, as we had just said goodnight and goodbye to our closest friends.

No, he said, back to France. Back to the beginning of being here.

It was pretty great, wasn't it, I said.

Yes, he said, it was really pretty great.

It really was.

***


It has been an incredibly full and wonderful day. John started it in Paris, where he had spent all day yesterday in good and productive meetings and interviews. He is making lots of good connections and (we hope) paving the way to one day come back. I picked him up at 9 at the train station and we headed to E. Leclerc, where we received (of all things) a cord for the printer. Of course, as soon as we got the whole thing home we discovered that the paper feeder was broken, but it still can work, so we are leaving it in the basement for Franck and Laura and future renters and hoping to never, ever see the after-sales desk of E Leclerc ever again.

We then happily headed to Kate and Liv's party, up roads that are so familiar now (although the narrowness and speed of them still troubles me). They enjoyed sharing their treats with their classmates, and being at the center of attention. Madli, their closest friend in the class, gave them sea shells, and they got lots of hugs and "au reviors" all around.

Katie and Olivia definitely didn't have the connections to classmates that Jack did (and, not surprisingly, they are not stressed or sad about leaving, although they both say they would like to come back). Part of that is their age and language skills, I am sure, and a part of it might have come from being twins, and always together. For this short stay, having the support of each other outweighed their language acquisition, I think. And even though they aren't speaking a lot of French, they clearly understand almost all that is being said, and I think they will be in a really good position when they start French immersion kindergarden back in Canada this fall.

That's all a roundabout way of saying that their goodbyes weren't too sad. We loved their teachers, we knew they were happy, they had friends and learned a lot. They especially loved the big kids (like the ones in this picture who were waiting for the bus today). But it wasn't so hard to leave.

The hard parts would came later . And I am pretty tired right now, so although I want to capture the wonderful and intense and real emotions that flooded over all of us this afternoon and evening, I feel like I can't find all of the right words. So for now, I think I will just describe what happened, and post many of the wonderful photos. Maybe philosophical revelations will come later. Maybe not! On verra.

At any rate -- we arrived at Jack's school and found him trading Pokemon cards. We quickly passed around the Rice Krispie bars and gateau au chocolat, and they were as much of a hit in his classroom as they were in Kate and Liv's. Jack (like his sisters had earlier) passed out little notes and Canada stickers to his classmates. 

 

Jack's teacher had filled out his report card, and with the exception of his occasionally messy writing (which has improved a great deal these last months, she was quick to point out), everything was just great. She said he would have easily passed into the next grade in French schools. He did very well on the national exams, she added, and she told me all of those things that a parent loves to hear from a teacher: that he has many friends and is nice to everyone in the class, that he is a quick learner, that he was often able to help explain difficult concepts (including those of French grammar!) to his classmates, that he always seemed happy to be there.

Kate and Liv LOVED being with the big kids in his class (the first time they got to go on his playground with his friends). The big girls and boys doted on them, and it reminded me again how lucky we were to be in a small village, where everyone knew who they were (and often knew their names, and correctly). This was one of many times today I thought about how different it all would have been if we had spent John's sabbatical in Paris instead of a tiny village... and again, I was so glad we made the choice we did.

As you might see in these pictures, Jack's class had collected money to buy him a Team France soccer jersey, and an official Team France soccer ball which they all signed. They also threw in a pack of new Pokemon cards (thus making it a perfect, perfect gift). It is hard to describe just what happened at that playground today without sounding like a cliche, or a blustering parent. But it was clear that those kids all REALLY liked Jack, and he REALLY liked them. Jack's teacher said many of the students had come to her this week, saying they were so terribly sad he was leaving. The hugs and kisses goodbye provided proof of that.

We made our way home to prepare for the final fete (party) of the day -- a dinner with Geraldine, Thomas, Pierre, Jeanne, and Adele, and with Alli, John, Lauren, Claudia, Penelope, and their fabulous friend Sheila. Being good friends, I asked them to bring salad and dessert so I wouldn't have too much to do in the midst of packing and all. They happily did. 

And as the sun came streaming in the big windows of La Maison des Chaumes, as NINE kids played and laughed inside and out, as we sipped local wines and shared stories, as we ate amazing bread and indulged in lovely desserts, as I looked around at these families who have been at the center of so many of the best France moments -- well, I didn't want it to end. But it had to -- with some tears and many hugs and lots of talk about meeting again.

And so when Jack told me his wish later, I completely understood. Like him, I wouldn't mind going back, at least 50 times, and starting this all over again.

It has been, after all, in the words of a nearly 8-year-old, really pretty great.

And at this point, we are all feeling really pretty lucky, too.