Recently, I've known this feeling all too well. It's been exactly one month since we lost a best friend. She wasn't just that...she was our coworker, editor, role model, and personal cheerleader. She thought everything we made for our classroom, TPT, or blog was prize winning and praised and supported our work.
She was the smartest and kindest person I've ever met... not just to her friends, but to her 50 fourth graders she taught every year. Every year for eight years. If someone did not have lunch, she would buy it for them. If a student had a birthday and the parents were not "around" to celebrate, she'd bake cupcakes for the student to pass out in class. If a student reached a goal in class, she'd bake their favorite treat for a celebration the next day. She'd devote lunch time to lunch bunch for getting to know her students better. There were times when her students did not have food in their homes and would write about it in their writing journals, the next day they would find bags of groceries on their door step. At Christmas time, she'd always adopt a family and provide the children with gifts, clothes, and food to fill up their pantry. One year, she taught her class how to knit comfort dolls and sent hundreds of them to children who needed comfort. A few years ago, her class created soda tab bracelets, sold them, and raised over $1500.00 to help local families dealing with cancer bills. She frequently volunteered and was our school's Kindness Ambassador for Ben's Bells. She brought, modeled, and shared kindness everyday through actions and words.
This was just the beginning. In the classroom, she was a reading rock star. She didn't just teach her students to read, she taught them to be passionate readers. She shared her love of reading with everyone she met. Anywhere she went, she'd always have a book available. Oftentimes she'd be reading two or three books at a time. She was a role model for all. She was a passionate educator. When she found an educational role model, she became a "fanatic." This started with Nancy Boyles and continued with Donalyn Miller. She was awesome at Twitter and "stalked" her favorite authors, joined in on edu-chats and tweeted people around the world. Always learning from others. She met authors, invited them into her classroom, and went above and beyond in everything she did.
She spoke the truth, and stood up for who/what she believed in. She was smart. Really smart! She was worldly, having traveled all over the world and even growing up in Africa. She spoke a few languages and always showed genuine compassion for everyone, especially ELL students.
She was an amazing mother to three teenage boys and wife to an awesome man. She loved to laugh and make others smile. She was a perfectionist and never stopped thinking about how she could better herself. If there was an idea or suggestion, she would try it, but would first ask as many questions as she could about the topic. She loved to exercise, be outdoors, and be with friends.
She loved to talk. She had such amazing and hilarious adventures in her life. She would often entertain us at PD or lunch with her tales. We had many memorable memories in our eight years together, working a few classroom doors away from each other. She referred to me as her "Young BFF" and always laughed about the fact that she could be my mom. She gave the best advice. For advice on students, children, marriages, diets, exercise, and motherly opinions...she was the one to go to!
Then...just like that, like when Thomas J. was stung by tons of bees, had a fatal bee allergy, and died. She passed away. There are so many "what ifs?" that we can think of now, so many things we want to say, and so many more ways we could have helped our best friend, if we knew. We are full of anger. And sadness. And pain. Why didn't she let us help her? Did I let her down as a friend?
A month has passed. Thirty days of daily tears. Cleaning out the classroom. Boxes. Tears. Interviews. Demo lessons. More tears. More moving. Changes. To little, too late. Life will never be the same.
My stomach is in constant knots, my heart aches. My mind is a blur. A smile is forced. A laugh seems guilty. How the heck do I still have tears to cry? We miss our best friend. The shock has worn off, now the pain is stronger. It's knowing she isn't coming back that makes me feel like Vada missing her Thomas J.
I wrote this as a way to reflect on my feelings, not as a plea for pity. I hate the response, "I'm sorry for your loss," because I feel like it is SO much more than MY loss. As much as this hurts me, I am sick over what it has done to her family, school, and community as well. Maybe someone understands or has experienced similar thoughts and feelings. Death is hard on everyone any people experience grief in their own unique ways. For me, I thought blogging/journaling and putting thoughts into words would help.
Let your friends, near and far, know how much you appreciate them and how much they mean to you today and always, but most of all... Be kind! Thanks for reading.
I wrote this as a way to reflect on my feelings, not as a plea for pity. I hate the response, "I'm sorry for your loss," because I feel like it is SO much more than MY loss. As much as this hurts me, I am sick over what it has done to her family, school, and community as well. Maybe someone understands or has experienced similar thoughts and feelings. Death is hard on everyone any people experience grief in their own unique ways. For me, I thought blogging/journaling and putting thoughts into words would help.
Let your friends, near and far, know how much you appreciate them and how much they mean to you today and always, but most of all... Be kind! Thanks for reading.
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