You’ll remember that we had our Ofsted last month and that same night, one of our caretakers had a stroke and died a few days later.  Then our Year 11 pupil died suddenly.  We have all found the last few weeks of term quite a strain.  But it got even worse.  On Sunday morning I had a message from a friend (who lives in  the village and is also a teacher at the High School) to say that the son of friends had been killed in a farming accident.  In his latish twenties, he was married with a baby.  His parents divorced and remarried many years ago and both extended families still live here.  His half-sisters go to school here, the eldest at the high school.

Already shocked, this made everyone feel terrible.  And yesterday afternoon, a member of staff (not a teacher) became seriously ill very suddenly and is now in Addenbrooke’s hospital in Cambridge.

At the same time, it’s the end of the school year and there are various awards being given out, sports days, staff leaving parties and all that sort of thing, for which we have to be upbeat.  And there’s an awful lot of work to do, less than a fortnight for everything to be in place for the academy change.  It is legally set up, but we’re still working our way through all the contracts we need for everything the local authority did.  And there’s the end of year paperwork too.  The person who is ill is the financial manager’s right hand woman so there’s a practical problem as well as anxiety about a dearly loved friend and colleague.

So, nothing at all has happened as far as I or my family are concerned, we are fine.  But I’m shocked, grieving and so sad for the people whose lives are devastated.  Excuse me if I sound as if I’m wanting this to be about me, I really am not.

Today, however, has gone quite well.  Final music lessons (for me and for most of two Year 9 classes) were fun.  Interviews were extremely interesting, they will carry on later in the week and it will be a very hard choice.  Tomorrow, a staff/pupil cricket match after school.  I shall go and cheer on one team or the other, or probably both.

15 comments on “Explaining

  1. allotmentqueen

    Oh my goodness – it never rains, but it pours! That is so difficult – having to be upbeat when there’s so much to be downbeat about. I wish you well.

    And isn’t there another baby due quite soon? Take comfort in the “Circle of Life” – go and find a babe to cuddle, they don’t ask questions as to why you’re not your usual bubbly self.

  2. Four Dinners

    ‘Life’s a bitch and then you die’ springs to mind…but I won’t say that as it seems callous…oops…

    Life is frequently unfair babe.

    All we can do is hope we don’t get caught up in the ‘unfair’ bit….

    If we do we have to ‘go on’ or shuffle off…

    Life’s a bitch eh?

    4D x

  3. georgie

    So sorry for all of the sadness. Wish I could come over with a homemade chicken pot pie and cheer you up. Staff would make the pie, she doesn’t think a canine should be allowed to attempt meal preparation.

  4. Blue Witch

    Pockets of awfulness…

    Try to stay positive, for the sake of the others. What people involved in tragedy value most, in retospect, are those who are able to bring normalness (even though it cannot be normality) to them. It’s hard though, not to get caught up in the negativity abounding.

  5. Dave

    I spent a couple of hours yesterday with someone who has just lost his wife through a totally unexpected heart attack, and was reminded that in the midst of life death can strike – but nonetheless you do seem to have had more than your fair share recently.

    For what it’s worth, sympathy.

  6. lom

    Things like this touch everyone, so no it doesn’t sound like you want it all to be about you, it shows you are a carring person

  7. Christopher

    So sorry you’ve had these burdens to carry. Time heals, polishes the memories, sanctifies the commitment that first drew you in, renews strength. And I think you have strengths beyond your own knowing.

  8. Z

    It hit me and I lost my resilience for a couple of days, and that was before Jan became ill (she’s slightly better now). Sunday night, I cried – well, I howled. Completely lost it. Can’t remember when that last happened.

    I’m tough and I compartmentalise, and behave as appropriate in the circumstances. You can fall apart on your own behalf, but you have to support the people who are really suffering.


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