It's been something of a day. I am still to ring some local libraries to organise author appearances. I also have to ring another radio station to organise an author interview. I also have to think about writing another book. Also on my to-do list is make some notes for tutoring, and write reports on students.
Today I completed an online module for working with clients who have disability, and understanding obligations under the NDIS. I've completed it. It's off my shoulders. I'm happy.
But although I am indeed happy about getting that training module out of the way, and although I am happy to be feeling my muse nudging me in the ribs and saying, 'Hey, Bailey - got some ideas for another book here!', I am actually feeling drained. It has been an emotional day. My eldest son graduated high school today. Back in 2007, I watched him - a sweet-natured little boy - wander into a kindergarten classroom and sit down at the toy box with some other children; today I watched a pleasant, intelligent young man walk out of the school assembly hall for the very last time. I thought I was going to be bawling, but managed to keep it in. I actually teared up when the Year 12s entered the hall; the Year 10 music class was performing We Are The Champions, and it was very stirring and solemn to see them filing in, and taking their seats. After the official assembly, they exited to Life is a Highway, and the audience stood, clapping in time with Tom Cochrane's upbeat tune. I caught the glistening eye of another mum (my eyes were shining like crazy diamonds), and we smiled at each other in a mum-type solidarity. I must mention there was a funny section where younger siblings spoke. My 15yo stood up, and in his own quirky style, said he was going to miss his brother when he went off to college or university, but he was not going to miss watching him eat on the couch, nor would he miss the teasing in the playground from him and his friends, teasing that entails telling my youngest to get to class, notwithstanding it's recess. And yes, when it was time to go to the library to view the cutting of the cake, my graduate and his friends told my youngest, 'Get to class!'
It has been a very emotional time. I launched my book last week, and although it's not up there with the unveiling of the Sistine Chapel, it is a personally stressful time, and I was so grateful for the help I received. Today, I saw my kid finish school. I still have to get through the Year 12 Formal tomorrow night, which will involve seeing him in a suit-and-tie combo (I will need tissues). We still have the HSC to battle through, so it's not over yet.
But my son, if you read this, and I KNOW I have already told you, just know that your dad and I are ever so proud of the terrific young man you have become. I've been blinking back tears most of the day, but they are tears of pride and joy. Even if you DID polish off Dad's beer nuts, much to his annoyance!
Like Tom Cochrane said: life is a highway, and we are going to ride it, and see what the future brings.
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