I think one of the things I look forward to most when summer begins is quiet. A time when your head doesn’t have to race around thinking of every little detail and constantly be in a tizzy.

Ah yes, quiet.

What is really funny to me, and my colleagues will agree, is that it’s hard for us to drag our butts out of bed while the school year is going on. Yet, on many a summer morning, I am up with the light of day and sitting on my deck sipping coffee. If it’s early enough, the sun is just coming up.

That is a cherished time.  

Whether you take that time to meditate, pray or just sit there and let your mind chill out, it’s good.

Quiet.

Now here’s where I go back on what I said recently. That was not my last retirement-themed column.

This one is.

In the busyness of my end-of-school-plus-end-of-career-year stuff, I decided to bring as much quiet as possible to the equation.

As you are reading this, I will be finishing up my last, last day. My plan is to say things to people who corner me, but mostly, I plan to slip out quietly and make a good old Irish exit.  

Is that politically correct? 

I never have liked goodbyes, and besides, I will see many of these people again.  

So, quietly I will go.

Says the man who has talked about retirement for months and has written column after column about it.

Here’s the deal though: saying goodbye to a classroom and indeed, the school itself will cause mixed emotions too.

No longer will I have to hike to the office from my classroom, miles away.  

No longer will I have to jet up the stairs to collaborate with my cronies in the upper grades. There are thoughts and memories I will not miss here.

But still, having a school building to go to for 34 years has been comfortable, whether I admit it or not.

But I think my classroom will be the hardest part.  I’ve had eight classrooms in all these years, and a key to get into the school. There were plenty of times that my classroom felt like a second home and coming here, planning, grading or working on a project in the quiet of the building was good for the psyche.

So, it might be a little hard to give up a classroom.

The plan, as I write, is to slip back in when the building is empty and, you guessed it, quiet.  Walk the halls, sit at my desk in my empty classroom.

I might go down to my mailbox one last time and slip some notes into other mailboxes. I will probably peek into some rooms, like the faculty lounge that was never used because teachers were too busy to hang out there. I may sneak a ride in the elevator that kids aren’t supposed to use unless they have a good reason. I’ll make it a point to go to different vantage points in the school and look down the halls, out windows and get a clear picture of it all one last time.  

Then, I’ll turn in my keys and walk out the door for the last time.

A fitting and quiet so long.