The Sound of a Closing Door

"How are you feeling?" I asked my former colleague, Deisy, on the morning of the last day of school. I was there subbing, and she was in her usual spot in the lobby, ready to dispense tardy passes to any laggard students. 

I had known her for nearly 30 years, and I also knew she was retiring. This was her very last day on the job.

She smiled ruefully. "I feel a little sad," she confessed. "Everyone here gave me a nice party and gifts, and I couldn't finish my thank-you notes because I kept crying."

"I know," I told her. "And everyone expects you to be so happy, right?"

Her eyes widened. "I think you're the only one who understands," she said. 

"Give yourself a lot of grace," I advised her. "As much of a privilege as it is, retirement is a huge adjustment."

We were both a little choked up. 

"Thank you," she said.

"You're welcome!" I laughed. "And look at me! Obviously, you can always come back."