Retirement

Here I am on October 29, 2006, a lame duck teacher. I've officially notified the players in a letter: the superintendent, the school board, the principal, and the union. I let the core know, with whom I've been working for twelve years, and teachers who have asked. The word is definitely getting around.
Friday, Ms. Thurston the librarian caught me on the way through after lunch. She was behind the fiction stack and peeked out.
"Ms. Lakey, is it true? Are you not coming back next year?" she asked. I could see her eyes were shining and it set up an immediate reaction in my own.
"Yeah," I said, holding onto her elbow.
"But, I won't be giving your classes any more booktalks," she said, ducking her head.
"Oh, there'll be booktalks," I assured her. "We'll get someone who wants booktalks," and then I had to excuse myself. "If I don't go, I'll cry," I said, and pushed my way through the library doors.
It's not that I'm not ready to retire, because I am and I know it's important for our lives at home and I will grow into it, but it is the relationships that I have with people at school that I will miss. In Ms. Thurston's case, I depended on her to feed me good books. It is one of the reasons that I like coming back to school. I've been without her for a whole summer and there are new stories out there. "What should I read, now?" I ask when I turn in the one I just finished.
"Oh, let me think," she says, smiling. "I'll put one in your box."
And then, not too long after, I find a new book, tucked in my mailbox, looking prim in its new dust jacket. I take it out and read the title. I run my hand down the slick surface and wonder what she has steered me to this time.
Oh, Ms. Thurston, I am going to miss you.