On Tuesday I had the last Rochester class: after five and a half years of teaching the class has been closed. My heart hurt a lot all day, getting heavier and heavier as I got in the car to make my last journey out to Delce Rd. I set up that familiar room and I was preparing a couple of my students peeked round the door and gave me a bunch of flowers. Just before class started I noticed that the clock in the hall had stopped, and upon checking my watch had too. I bought that watch for meditation - how fitting. We had a little class, there was minimal fuss which was just the way I wanted it. At the end and one of the gentlemen who has been a long time regular gave me some china as a thank you present. By the end of the class I was feeling relieved for it to be over, and a great deal of affection towards my students - I have no doubt that I will lose some and keep touch with others, that is the way of all things. I had a lovely chat with the caretaker, 'I'll miss our Tuesday night chats' he said, and I must agree - sometimes I would talk to him more often than I talked to my friends, he never failed to make me smile. He said that he would send me the odd text about his boys, give me a shout if he was coming to town so maybe we could chat over coffee. I handed the keys back ceremoniously and both of us were a little uncomfortable. I drove home, and the moon hung a misty red and purple blaze in the sky, I listened to Hey Ocean, just like the first solo car journey I made, the roads were clear and smooth and uncluttered and my heart was easy.... and I hope that this is an omen for how life will be too. My last voyage out, my last voyage back, five and a half years of teaching, tens, maybe hundreds of people through those doors - I never wanted to teach, but I am very grateful that I did, I learnt so much. For the last time I get to say: I love my Rochester students.