Written 13 July 2017
What to do when bad news rides into town on the back of the black dog.
The relief of finally finding some direction for Karta’s future was swept away beneath a wave of grief.
Although he technically passed the Kent Test, he missed the required mark in English by a few points. That alone was enough to fail overall.
Understandably, he was devastated. Most of his friends had passed. For them, it became a time of celebration and excitement. School choices. Plans. Conversations about what came next.
For Karta, it felt like failure.
Missing out by such a narrow margin hit him hard. Watching that happen to your child so early in the school year is brutal. It was hard on all of us.
Still, there was one last chance. An appeal.
The problem was the waiting. Months of uncertainty. Nearly nine months before we would know the outcome.
Nine long months.
I remember sitting at the table staring at the envelope in front of me. This was it. The final decision about whether our son would get the chance to attend grammar school.
I opened the letter carefully.
The appeal had been successful.
Karta had his place.
The acceptance letter was hand-delivered to the school the same day. Soon after, the welcome pack arrived, and we began preparing for September and the move to “big school”.
Then, the following Tuesday morning, the black dog arrived carrying something else entirely.
A phone call from a relative informed me that my grandmother had died suddenly earlier that morning.
I felt numb.
I still do.
Karta was in the room when the call came. After I put the phone down, I sat with him on the sofa and explained what had happened. We held onto each other tightly while my thoughts spiralled around the room.
Nan’s gone.
Now what?
The rest of the day blurred into text messages and phone calls. Then the noise faded quickly. By the weekend, almost nothing. No updates. No one is really checking in. Just silence and the black dog lingering somewhere in the background.
As I write this, it’s the following Thursday.
He’s still there in the shadows, but I’m trying not to let him drag me under.
There will be a funeral. I’ll say goodbye properly when the time comes.
Meanwhile, life keeps moving. The world keeps spinning.
The school holidays begin next week. Karta’s final days at primary school are filled with performances, discos, talent shows, and all the rituals of leaving childhood behind. A celebration before everyone scatters in different directions.
So for now, I’m focusing on that. On him. On our holiday plans.
A walk in the mountains feels like good medicine right now. Time to think. Time to breathe. Time to work a few things out.
I don’t want to get ahead of myself, but I know something has to change. I need to look deeply at who I am and what I want from whatever remains of this life.
I need to find the thing that still eludes me, whatever that is.
Until next time,
adieu.