for Gracyn and Griffin

I actually did the math: I’ve been teaching for 70% of my life. And in all those teaching years, there have been many seasons. Seasons of teaching assistantships; seasons of community college, university, middle and high school teaching; seasons of teaching kids, young adults, adults, and seniors; seasons of salaried and volunteer teaching; seasons of classrooms in three different states.

But nothing could have really prepared me for this final season of homeschooling my grandchildren. Most of my teaching seasons have been spent on larger, more public stages on which I delivered lessons to hundreds, actually thousands, of students. This year, however, I spent my teaching days in my own home–sometimes in the office, sometimes at the kitchen table or on the couch. There were no bells or bathroom passes, and many times, snacks were involved. Some days, I dressed up and wore jeans (my best ones), and some days, I wore sweatpants (my respectable ones).

Each day, however, I wore my heart on my sleeve. I couldn’t help it. I’d been gifted with an opportunity to spend my days with two of the people I love most. When they burst through the door, kick off their shoes, and hang up their coats, I know that it can’t get much better than this: sitting side by side, learning together, laughing together, wondering and trying on new ideas together. This is a very small, intimate stage, perhaps the most precious and crucial one of all. And I’ve desperately wanted my years of experience to culminate in my best teaching performance.

I’d be lying if I said that each lesson came off without a hitch, that I remembered percentages, ratios, and algebraic equations, that I didn’t feel overwhelmed by the number of lesson plans I had to prepare every day. I worried nightly about all the things I’d never taught: phonics and lower elementary reading, science and math (at any level!), ancient world history. The list could go on, but these are the big ones. And if the truth be told, I cried more times than I can count, blessedly never in front of my students. I just wanted Gracyn and Griffin to genuinely learn, and I wasn’t sure that I was delivering the goods.

We have seven official school days left until summer break. Seven mornings of final math, science, social studies, language arts and spelling lessons. Seven afternoons of wicked UNO and Yahtzee matches, time on the swingset and pedal boat trips around the pond. We’ll probably eat the last cans of Spaghettios and the last box of Fruit Roll-Ups in my cupboard (admittedly, not every “school” lunch here is wholly healthy). And we’ll probably go to Dairy Queen to celebrate the end of the year.

What can I say as this teaching season comes to an end? I can say that it’s been one of the greatest privileges of my life. I can say that my grandchildren are truly wonderful people with tender hearts and glorious souls. I can say that packing up all of our books and school supplies will leave me bereft–at least until we fill our backyard pool, and the summer fun begins.