Last Goodbyes to S ❤️💔♥️

After a long, mostly intense and emotional year - I've finally said my last goodbyes to a young man who left us too early. But I guess, at the right time for him. 

The message below is one I shared with him and his whanau in their support group this afternoon. 

For those of you who know my story, my journey thus far - you'll know too that as teachers, the students we lose are the ones that break us the most. Losing S that day, in that moment, in the same year as Gran and other students - it was all just too much. S was truly a shining star. He deserves all the happiness always. Ngā mihi bub.

...

Hi bub. I've stayed too long in your whanau support group with you. I stayed too long because I wasn't ready to let you go just yet. You left our world when things weren't going so well for me either in my life. It didn't seem fair you leaving us and I felt guilty for not having done more, somehow to have kept you and other students that year here with us.

I'd seen you at kura maybe three or four weeks earlier and you'd came to see me and your other teachers to catchup and say hi - and bye too, I now know. You were happy and excited about your life. Things seemed to be going really well for you at the time, with work especially. You were bubbly again, smiling and incredibly happy in your own skin. I was really proud of you for the hard mahi it would have taken to get you to that happy place finally. 

I'm only sorry I didn't have time to have a proper conversation with you. You'd caught me on my walk across campus from one class to another. 

Reflecting back on that moment in time has held me stagnant for a long time. Because I wondered what else I could have done. How else might I have been able to help? Why didn't I see the signs? Those questions have been heavy ones to hold onto. I'm learning that I can't save everyone. That my job is simply to listen, support and be there when you kids needed it. I did that. But it still doesn't feel enough.

I guess because there is still more work to be done. Listening to Rob Mokaraka during his 'Shot Bro: Confessions of a Teenage Bullet' dramatic performance helped immensely as it drew all the broken pieces out into the light. His performance is one I suggest to everyone. To understand the depth of depression and potentially the warning signs. To recognise the good that is within and under all the pain. To speak up and often when things aren't going well or if we just need someone to talk to. 

I know your whanau are still healing, and always will be. Because kiddo you were a shining light in a lot of darkness. You brightened up our worlds, laughed at silly things and made us laugh with you. I know your classmates and the teachers who were blessed to have come into contact with you will always hold you in our hearts. 

I am beyond proud that I had the pleasure to have met you, to have taught you even for that small moment in time. 

Each time I see your brother at his work it makes me happy - because you live on in him, in all your brothers and sisters, nieces and nephews. 

You were a shining star. You left us too soon before we realised just how special the time we had already had with you was. 

I'll always be here for your whanau should they need someone to talk to. Walking with your sister on the Hope Walk was healing for both of us.

I know that you will be watching down on all of us, helping us heal and to appreciate and remember all the incredible moments we have before they're gone much too soon. 

Ngā mihi nunui ki a koe, bub. Kaua e wareware au i a koe. Moe mai atu ra.

Miss Le Long