graduate
My sister has graduated from elementary school, the same school my other sister and I both went to. I only went there for two years — it only (re)opened for my grade 5. I was in the first ever graduating class there. It’s changed totally: we were a class of 12, the class below us, 20-odd. My sister is in a class of 50-something. None of the same teachers are still there. It’s odd, somehow.
My sister is, of course, sad: it’s the end of a time, and even though it’s been a bad school for her, and even though she’s having trouble with the girls in the class, she’s still sad. And she asks if I understand and of course I do, but also: I can barely recall my graduations — university, high school, elementary. I’m not in touch at all with anyone from elementary school, and I’m mostly uninterested in seeing anyone from high school unless we’re currently friends. I wouldn’t mind an elementary school reunion, though I’m not sure if I would be willing to organise one. I almost regret not wishing I could see them more, I feel like it says something bad about me, though I think really it doesn’t.
I can’t recall being too sad about leaving; I think I was always more excited about starting something else. You could almost call me an optimist.
It’s not that all of this, the changes, the loss in leaving a place — even one you don’t want to be at anymore — doesn’t matter at the time: it does, of course — knowing that you are feeling sadness for some natural reason doesn’t really make it go away.