Take another little piece of my heart...

My son, Grizz, recently got his A/S Level results...

We were on holiday in the Netherlands when our next door neighbour's boy, Nate, was at school to collect his own and Grizz's A Level results... Nate's a year older, so leaves school this year - He's going to University next year, and is going on to train to work as a ski- and, I think, -hang-glider instructor, in his 'Gap Year'.

...The anticipation and suspense was prickling the tiny hairs on the back of my neck. As we waited. And as I pondered their fragile futures.

You might not know, but like our lovely Lakeviewer, I work in Education Policy...

One of the latest education research results in the North East of England I heard about, admittedly concerning a pocket-sized area of an inner-city, indicated that looking at a cohort of young people, (aged 16 - 18), who were not in education, training or employment (charmingly called 'NEETs'), 50% of them were dead by the age of 25.

That's daunting, is it not? Horrifying, in fact... Scary indeed.

There is so much riding on the academic achievement and vocational success of our young people. My son. Your daughter. Our beloved children.

And how do you get those messages over to them; Those who think they know EVERYTHING better than their long-suffering, always-loving, parentals?

So many people with now grown-up children have said similar things to me lately, using words like these, "They have to learn their own lessons, make their own mistakes, and their own way in life...; It's all part of growing up, Fhina... They're growing away..."

And yet, I bite my lip to a frazzle, I fret, I wait and I wonder, and I hope that all that I have done in my life to try to make my child's easier, more enriched, will come to fruition. I want him to blossom and grow.

All I want in life is for him to be happy. I don't want for him to hit the heights, to be an astronaut, Prime Minister, the next Alice Cooper, (the later version sans drugs, sans alcohol!), or to have his coffers over-flowing with riches...

None of that's really important, is it? Ultimately, the majority of mums and moms, dads and carers, want our children to be healthy and happy and to live a life without devastating incident, disaster or disease...

So, what happened with Grizz, you ask? Well, he did as well as could be expected, I feel, given his penchant for a healthy social life that Paris Hilton would envy; 20 hours' worth of furious kipping a night; his well-honed skills in Work Avoidance 101, and copious amounts of 'resting' his brain in-between... I think he's trying to preserve it... To keep it in pristine, museum condition...

He'll have to re-sit one lot of exams - To gain a better grade in Geography, the subject he thinks he'd like to study at University next year... I breathed a silent sigh of relief, which I hid from him, but shared with my husband... "It could have been worse...," we opined, and we moved on, dealing with his outbursts of angst and brief despair, as the day ran on...

I'm keeping my fingers (and legs!) crossed for Grizz. I'm keeping him back a bear-hug of an embrace that's full of hope. I'm saving another little piece of my heart for him...

In case he needs it.