Yesterday, I had the chance to spend delightful time with two friends whom I met while in the early years of our teaching careers. We savored time and memories during our four hour brunch at my home, and even indulged in a mid-day mimosa...because we can and because the three of us know full well the impact of loss and how we are not guaranteed one more day. It was a beautiful day as we shared stories, some with tears in our eyes, understanding one another's hearts, just grateful that the world could stop and we could just be together. So, we celebrated a new day, toasted to friendship, trust, care, and to life.
After they left, I realized what journeys life has surely taken us all on, one a widow at such a young age that none of us really understood the impact or significance, yet, by example, she taught us how to live strong, raise three small children to be productive, wonderful adults, honor the love and memory of their father, her husband, who was taken from them all way too soon. The other, a blessed soul in her own right, one who has travelled the road of heartbreak in other ways, who is learning to let go and live on, release some of the fear and worry, and live this day. What treasures these two ladies are to me, and what history we have...all in the name of teaching and learning and loving what we did for so long. And now to have the gift of retirement, even in the sadness of our lives, is almost surreal in itself.
Thoughts returned to my teaching career and to my daughter, Allison, who was headed right down my own path, not by design, but because she was a natural. I posted the photograph of the children hanging all around her as she served as a summer camp counselor, because that glow, that smile, that moment of love between her and the children, well, it's what good teaching is all about. Not because I am her mother, but because I have known and mentored many teachers in my time, I can honestly say, again, she was a "natural". A natural because it came from her heart. A natural because she had a desire to instill in young people all the knowledge, care and concern that they could absorb. A natural because she had a sixth sense about people.
Would I have loved to see her reach her potential, help her get her classroom ready, share her experiences, laugh at the stories, cry at the drama, watch her grow into what life had in store? Surely I would be lying if I didn't say an abounding YES. But what I have come to know and accept and believe is that her teaching was just destined to take on a different way of instruction and example. She has become the master teacher, leaving us the lesson plan to follow, showing the brightest and boldest smile, glowing with an angelic aura, shining through each of us who have been blessed to know, or know of, her. In some ways, she is the teacher she would have never been had she lived longer on earth. While she was wondrous with children and people, she can live on and teach to her heart's content, without the "baggage" that goes with it for all of us.
Thank you, honey, for the lessons, the inspiration, the teaching and the glow, left for us to all learn and follow.
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