So I went along to the open evening for my old school’s closure. It was a lovely night.
Best of all, my favourite teacher of all time was there. Miss B., the one who had taught me in Primary 7. She looked fabulous and she must be in her late seventies.
It’s a curious thing. A lot of the teachers I see look amazing after they’ve retired. I’ve got that to look forward to!
I finally got to say to her what I’ve always wanted to say.
‘Thanks. For being the best of my teachers through primary, secondary and college.’
And I got to hug her. She even remembered who I was without me having to tell her. I was delighted.
I wonder how many of my former pupils I will remember when I’m her age. Or how many will remember me.
It’s quite scary to encounter children you have taught with their own kids in tow. You just don’t realise how the years fly.