My eldest’s best friend, my third favourite boy in the world, a boy I would happily adopt, is moving. Not just moving across town. MOVING. We are all devastated. He really is the nicest boy and we are all going to miss him. We are going to miss the whole family.
It had been on the cards for a long time. For as long as we’ve known them they’ve always wanted to move to a big house with a big garden in Wales or Somerset. But selfishly I always hoped it wouldn’t happen.
When I got a text at 7pm one Friday evening a few months ago saying they had some news for my son and could they pop round, I feared the worst. It COULD have been something else, but realistically there was nothing else. And I was right. His Dad had a job in Devon and they were all moving. His Dad would have to move earlier, then they would go in the school summer holidays. The timing is perfect for them because my son’s friend can settle straight into his new secondary school at the start of Year 7. But we were no less upset. Strangely after they’d left that day, it was my younger son and I that burst into tears. I don’t think the reality and implications had really hit my eldest. But they’d hit me.
The boys were in separate classes for their first three years at school, but I was aware of the best friend. He was big and looked cool. I thought he was too cool for my son. His mum was young and pretty and had a newborn baby boy, who grew up into the cutest white-haired toddler, then pre-schooler, who is now moving into Year 3.
In Year 3 the boys’ classes were mixed. Thank goodness. My boy had never really had a best friend. And he met his best friend. And he wasn’t cool. He was a bit of a geek, just like my son. But above all, he was and is a really nice boy.
He has the nicest manners and is always happy to see my younger two children and is always kind to them. So they adore him too.
The boys have some similar interests and some different interests, but they are so happy together. They just talk and talk and talk like a couple of old men.
My son’s best friends takes Scouts very seriously. He loves camping, survival and the great outdoors. Bear Grylls is his absolute hero. He carries a Swiss army knife and wears walking boots to school.
It was him that introduced my son, indeed our whole family, to rugby. My son had asked to play rugby and I wasn’t sure. But then one day the best friend’s Dad came to pick him up, we got chatting and I found out he was the rugby coach! That was fine, then. He’s a really nice man and I knew he would look out for my son. And he did. My son isn’t the best rugby player, but his friend’s Dad always made sure he was included. And his friend didn’t judge him for not being the best player either.
How will he get on at rugby without them? How will he get on at Scouts without him?
There is a group of five boys who are good friends, but my son and his best friend like each other just slightly more. Two of the boys are going to grammar school, but my son’s best friend was supposed to be going to the same school. Realistically they weren’t going to be together at such a big school, but it was reassuring to know they could spend time together at break times and could talk about school together. Not any more.
His mum was my sanity as I entered into the scary world of rugby parenthood before I found my own feet. And he has the cutest little, little brother. He’s the spitting image of that newborn that grew up and is 2 and a half. My whole family adores him. He is a boy of few words, but he is like some sort of nuclear missile set to destruct. But with the blondest hair and the cutest smiles he gets away with it beautifully.
The boys are excited about getting together in the future. A couple more years and we will be able to stick my boy on a train for them to meet him at the other end. And they can stay in touch via the internet. They will stay friends, but it won’t be quite the same.
They are a lovely family and we are all going to miss all of them. We wish them the best of luck in their new life and will be thinking of them x