Yesterday Elvis's mom died of a sudden stroke. 39 years old.
He returned from a visit to his father's house to find her dead. Upon finding out, his step father, who has lived with them since Elvis was 2, had a massive heart attack and is currently in ICU.
He was discharged at the end the day today. We had made him cards and wrote letters.
"Can I take the test with you?" he asked. "I don't want to take it in a new school."
That's what he was concerned about - the test.
But he will not take it with me. I will probably never see him again.
In a day a child I've spent the last year and a half bonding with, teaching, at times agonizing over, is now gone. For good.
My kids cried today when he left. So did I....out of sadness, but more out of fear for what his life was going to be like.
This is why the work we do is so important. When he came to me he could not read or write his name. He now reads on a 3rd grade level, is on grade level in math, and is a very creative writer.
Everyday that we have with our kids might be the last. Tomorrow I teach with a new sense of urgency.