In The Classroom

Just yesterday, I was in a friend's classroom as she prepared to be videotaped for a lesson that she will attempt to recreate with her new set of students, one that her principal observed and found worthy of taping as an exemplary example of teaching at its finest...my words, not hers! She is humble about her talents, this I know, because I was at one time her principal and marveled at the instructional ability, the reflection, the planning that this teacher, who is now my friend, displayed. She never takes the credit, she gives every tribute to God above for helping her get this far and for providing her with the ideas and implementation. But she is a learner and tries to take in everything she is taught to make it a better day for her students, that they will walk away with not only knowledge but many other skills. She taught rigor and relevance before they were the new "buzz" words!

As I assisted her in getting some of the preparations under way, I had glimpses of my own days in the classroom, in that very building where teaching and learning thrived, where we all came together for a one purpose, where students were the focus of every decision. I pondered a moment about the true joy that enveloped me as I would take the "stage" in that room, and how the years, now, mean so much to me. I was taken back so easily to days that were meaningful and filled with passion. I was taken back to so many things. Then I said to myself, "don't be one of those women who live in the past". It was what it was, and now it is what it is. As I had little thoughts of what it would like to go back to that career, lead a group of students through their studies, I knew that you can never go back. All circumstances are different, nothing would be the same, those moments were meant to be what they were, and all conditions under heaven were right and good to allow me those years of teaching.

Just as in my career, and definitely more so, I struggle daily to live where I am, in the moment, don't look back. Don't dwell. Don't wonder. Work to accept what is mine to accept. Like stepping back into the classroom, I cannot step back in time. I can't relive the days of raising our daughters, of attending their events, of going to church as a family, of teaching Sunday School, of family traditions, of Joe coaching their sports, of graduation and birthday parties. All that has changed. It is supposed to, but I didn't think it was supposed to be like this. When the girls left and created the "empty nest", I didn't think the pain in my heart could get any deeper. We were lost and at odds, we didn't know quite what to do with ourselves, everything had been centered around their growing up, and now they were gone in one sense. It was time to redefine ourselves, our family unit, our interests as a couple. But on the heels of that, we faced cancer and loss, and we were so lost in yet a different way. I begged God to make it better, to help me find my way. I wanted to go back, and at times, I still do. But I can't, and I won't, and I am learning that Allison is not coming back. In those first months, and even years, close to three now, I expected her to walk in the door. Sometimes I still do. Sometimes when the phone rings at exactly 6:00 in the evening, I am just sure it is her. But it is not. And it never will be again.

With every fiber of my being, I would love to go back, and take whatever I had before knowing this devastation and pain, before, when hearing Christmas music in the stores brought pep to my step in joyful anticipation, when I could lie on the couch and watch a Lifetime movie with my daughters, when I could hear about her day and new friends in her college town, when I could go to the mall without seeing reminders on every turn, when we could talk about their dream weddings, when I could hear two sisters giggling in a room as they prepared to go out or wrap Christmas presents, or talk about girl things! But it's not to be. The pain of that comes and goes, one minute you find yourself in complete acceptance, the other minute, your body is pain from the desire to see, hold or talk with her or turn back the clock. But God knows that looking back is not going to make today any better. The snippets of looking back bring meaning to the day we have, the moment, and the future. It holds it all in its hand, and while it has its place, it is not a place to dwell. So, I strive to take that memory, make it meaningful, and give it purpose to live this day, the one I have, with those who are here, and stay strong, for them, and for her.

The classroom teaches many things, but life is our greatest teacher. We cannot go back. That's not how it works. All I have is today, and I pray I make the most of it, through the tears of loss, through the promise of blessings, which will reveal themselves if I keep looking.