As we hurtle towards the end of another year, it’s only natural that we take stock of the year that’s passed, reflect on the things we’ve achieved, the challenges we’ve faced and think about the year ahead. Over the last few years, I’ve usually taken the opportunity to blog about the past year, initially I was inspired by my friend Jo Gilks, in 2020, then the events of 2021 and 2022 led me to blog about illness and death. I haven’t made a conscious decision to blog at the end of every year, but after receiving the email we’d been expecting but dreading, telling us that our colleague and friend, Juliet Robertson had died with her family by her side, just after Christmas, it feels like a good time to take stock, to think and reflect. As the tributes to Juliet pour in, I’ve been thinking a lot about her legacy, about the legacy my husband left behind when he died 3 years ago, and about the legacy I’d like to leave. A few days before Christmas I was going through some old paperwork when I found one of Pete’s old notebooks. In amongst the drawings and doodles were some notes from a training day, well over a decade ago, when he was still teaching full time in a primary school. There I found Juliet’s name, and some references to her work. I hadn’t realised that he had attended training with Juliet, who would eventually go on to become on of my colleagues! Teaching is a small world, but it got me thinking about the impact and influence we all have, often without knowing, on other people’s lives.

Pete was passionate about the arts, before he became an infant teacher, he was an artist, a glass maker, he was also passionate about hands on learning, learning outside the classroom, creativity and following children’s interests, so I know that Juliet’s work would have really resonated with him.

As I look back on the year that’s just passed, I hope that something I’ve done or said has resonated in the same way with some of the thousands of teachers I’ve had the honour of working with. The feedback from the training and school visits I’ve been involved in would indicate that people seem to find my ideas around education useful, and for that I’m truly grateful.

It’s been a challenging year, my daughters have had some health issues, which have resulted in both having surgery, one on the first day of her A levels, despite it all she managed to achieve the grades she needed to go to university, where she is thriving, and we have adjusted to living without her at home. It was a poignant moment when I drove away from the university halls, I really wish her dad had lived to see her go, but it wasn’t meant to be. I know he would have been tremendously proud and that although he may be gone, he lives on in both his girls who are kind, thoughtful, funny, clever, determined and creative, just like their dad. H also inherited his messy traits, so on the plus side the house takes a lot less tidying up now she’s away most of the time! Just before he died, Pete said to me, “They’re quite the legacy aren’t they?” about our girls, and if I leave nothing else behind, I’ll be proud of the lovely young people they’ve become.

Back in February, completely out of the blue, my best friend who I’ve known since infant school was diagnosed with AML, and the outlook was not good. We’ve watched him endure horrific treatments, and the loss of his mum, who was like everyone’s second mum, and I’ve reflected on how Pete would have supported him and his wife, had he been here.  I’ve watched his friends and family rally round to support and complete their home renovations which were at mid-point when he was diagnosed, and I’ve marvelled at the courage, generosity and determination that humans show in the face of adversity. The kindness of an unknown young man, in a country far away, who put his name on the bone marrow transplant register, means that my friend will live to see in 2026 and hopefully many more years to come.

In October my mother-in-law died of cancer, shortly after celebrating 65 years of marriage. Listening to the eulogy at her funeral was another opportunity to reflect on the immeasurable impact we all have on so many lives. Pete’s parents were foster carers and the kindness they showed to strangers when they most needed it will no doubt resonate through the generations, not least with one of Pete’s sisters, who came for a short while, and stayed for life. Watching my mother in law’s friends, children, grandchildren and great grandchildren sharing their stories offered another chance to reflect on the legacy we might all leave when it’s our turn to go.

2025 has brought happy times too – H’s  improved health, her A level results day, my friend receiving the news that there are currently no traces of cancer in his body, a new relationship for me after bumping into an old school friend one day when I was out, holidays, gigs, festivals, book publications, work projects that I’m genuinely excited about and the best bunch of friends anyone could wish for, who’ve seen me through some really challenging times.

No one knows what’s around the corner. In 2020 when I wrote that first “Happy New Year” blog, inspired by my friend Jo, I didn’t know that 2021 would bring Pete’s terminal diagnosis and that our lives would change forever. All we can know is that our time here isn’t infinite. We should use it wisely. So, over the next few hours I’ll be thinking carefully about what kind of legacy I want to leave behind and bearing that in mind as I navigate all the challenges life is bound to bring in 2026.

I feel blessed to have people who love me, whom I love back, I have a job I love, and I work with some truly brilliant people who inspire me every day. I’m lucky to bump into former pupils from time to time who tell me that I made a difference to their lives, and to have colleagues who share the impact of our work together. I’m excited about the year ahead, about the difference I think the work I’m involved in might make to hundreds, thousands, or maybe even tens of thousands of lives. That would be amazing, and I’m also excited for other new adventures that might be on the horizon.

I may not have made a fortune selling the latest edu-fad product,  but I think I’m rich beyond measure and for that I’m truly grateful. I hope that whatever 2026 brings for you, you’re lucky enough to have people who will support and guide you, who will be a listening ear, and who will tell you when you’re being a bit of a wally. I hope that you find courage, strength and determination to face the challenges ahead, and gratitude to appreciate all you have.

Happy New Year!