Today, Remy graduated from preschool.
With a flip of my heart, I watched my enthusiastic child sing with the other kids, even the songs he hadn't learned because he missed yesterday's rehearsal (he had a mysterious, quick fever on Monday that broke that night, but necessitated him being home yesterday).
He radiated joy. When his two classmates received their end-of-year certificates (they are still four, so they have one more year of preschool), he yelled their names in glee, cheering them on, as excited as could be.
And when he saw us in the audience (we were in the back) he lit up with even more joy. (He didn't rush over. That's progress, dear friends! Progress indeed. He waved his little heart out, though.) My mama heart burst.
I am, always, always, always, so filled to the brim with love and pride for my boychick.
And I know I am lucky I am not the only one who sees his light. His teacher and so many of the amazing people who worked with him this year all made many comments about his joyfulness and his love of his classmates and how awesome he had done (despite the lack of rehearsal). They are truly sad to see him leave.
We'll have another month of summer school here before we move, so I can't get too sad about his having to move on from the most amazing teacher's class. Not yet. Not yet.
And I'll restrain my sorrow because next year he will have another opportunity to shine, to make more friends, and a new teacher who will be (I hope) just ad amazing and dedicated as Mrs G has been.
Remy has a way of inspiring that in people, I think.
Who could resist his love?