The final goodbye

The boys are the hardest to say bye to. The girls pretend they never liked Teacher Russ at all, then slip notes that say “Secret!” asking for e-mails from the departed. The boys, they say, “You’ll be here Thursday?” but know I won’t.

Jake pulls Eric and I into a group hug, then they break away to do the western handshakes that I taught them. Hand limp, slide and snap, bump and break dramatic. Thumb in then up, shoulders back and pull bodies together for the double back slap.

They’re ready for a cameo on Entourage. They’ve got the western slang and know the lyrics to the oldies and current kiddie pop songs I taught them. They’ve got promises to visit one day in Canada and rich parents who will probably send them.

I’ve got my memories and a plane ticket.