‘Rauf, we will all be there for your last day of school, you’re going to have yummy snacks with your friends and give away goodbye presents’

‘Okay, mummy’

When Joe received notice for a job secondment in the Netherlands, we knew the best decision to make as a family was to move together. He was in Singapore for almost 2 years and it wasn’t easy for Rauf.

The entire time he was in Singapore, I was swamped with work. Rauf lacked proper attention, sometimes I felt he didn’t even receive enough attention from one full parent, so when Netherlands called, we answered together.

Rauf was thriving in school, he loved his friends and admired his teachers. School made him a happy child, in the 3 years he spent in his kindergarten, he grew to be an inquisitive boy, kind, thoughtful, protective and intelligent.

I thought the biggest sacrifice for moving was taking absence for my job, I was very wrong. It was taking Rauf out from the environment where he felt he had another family, his safe place. At that moment, it was the 6 year old boy who had to make the biggest sacrifice.

Rauf was a student at a playschool that I attended when I was a kid. 5 of the teachers who taught me were still educators there. For every kindergarten graduate, they will receive a graduation scrapbook filled with memories they collected during their entire school period. Rauf wouldn’t be there for his graduation with his friends, so we wanted to make his last day of school his own graduation ceremony.

Joe, my sister, my mum, my dad and I arrived school just after his lunch time. He had a yellow napkin tucked into his shirt. They just finished eating. When he saw us arrive, he was ecstatic and starting dancing.

A few minutes later, as we were all waiting to enter the room, he walked out slowly. His facial expression completely changed, he wasn’t dancing anymore, he looked distraught.

Rauf ran towards Joe, buried his tiny face and started to bawl. He tried to suppress his sadness because he didn’t want his friends to see how sad he was, but we knew. We all knew.

He ran to me, his cry grew even louder. At this point I could see my family holding their tears back – not my sister though she was full on crying. We kept assuring him that we love him, that everyone loves him and we promise he will always be in touch with his friends and teachers.

After he calmed down, we entered the classroom and greeted his friends. Cupcakes were distributed, my parents helped Rauf gave away farewell gifts to his friends. Joe, Kat and I took pictures and spoke to Rauf’s friends. I kept checking on Rauf to see how he was doing. He had a smile on his face but I knew his heart broke every time he gave a bag out. He was being really strong. I felt so sad for him.

This was a 6 year old leaving kindergarten, why was it so emotional?

I guess for most part it was because Rauf was strongly hesitant about leaving his world. We knew he wasn’t okay with it, so the guilt was always there. But on that last day, it was crystal clear how difficult it was for him. For me and Joe, we felt like we were saying goodbye to our children too. They were all 3-4 year olds when we met, practically babies, we were bidding farewell to them and their amazing parents.

Rauf was blessed with amazing teachers. Every time we read his progress report, the description of his personality couldn’t be more accurate. We always laughed every time we read it, ‘Yep, that’s Rauf’. They knew him inside out, it was through them that he learnt about kindness and empathy.

For his ‘graduation’, we borrowed a graduation robe and a mortarboard. We took photos in the garden, presented him with a scrapbook that I made for him and his friends. It won’t be the same as what the school would have given him at the end of the term, but at least he had something.

The sun was out, it wasn’t blazing, we took as many pictures as we could. This time around, I didn’t feel like rushing Rauf to go home. He deserved more time in the garden that witnessed him play, the patchy-muddy area that catered his sports practice and sports day, the corner where he and his friends would dig for worms and bugs, the tree that allowed him and his friends to swing on. No, there was no way I would rush him that day. We just waited, and watched the boy take his last stroll in the garden as a pre-schooler.

When he felt ready to go, he called my name and I turned around. Rauf reached his right arm out towards me and opened his palm, there were 2 saga seeds, ‘for you mummy’.

For the past 3 years, every time he’d get back from school, I received generous amounts saga seeds from Rauf that he collected from the school’s garden. Sometimes I’d find them in his pocket. He was proud every time he gave them to me. This time, despite his heartbreak and during his last stroll, he was still picking out saga seeds for his mummy.

That day, Rauf graduated pre-school. He knew how to write, how to read, how to plant seeds. He learnt how to receive kindness and how to be kind for others. But on that day, he put other people’s happiness ahead of his.

and that was a big sacrifice for a 6 year old kid.

Happy graduation Rauf, we are so proud of you.