Musings

I had a student that was very dear to me pass away in a car accident this summer. Her death took me by surprise and affected me deeply. She was my favorite student I have ever had, quite possibly, although that's a tough call because I am VERY attached to all of my beautiful, wonderful, amazing students. There was something different about her, though, that I've only seen a few times. I can't describe it, but she was golden.
This year her younger brother is in my class.
I wasn't able to attend the funeral because I was on a plane the night she got in the accident flying to London. I didn't get back until 2 weeks after the accident, 1 week after the funeral, the day of the memorial tree-planting ceremony. I never got to meet her family, although I'd met mom once when I nominated my little angel for a price at school.
I didn't know for sure that the kid in my class was her younger brother, so today I asked him, because I was worried about whether or not he was related to the girl due to the fact that so much of 8th grade approved reading has to deal with the death of a loved one, including one book that eerily has a story line that parallels the circumstances surrounding this real-life accident. I did not want to assign him to read that book, if, indeed, it would be a painful subject to him.
I couldn't get through the first sentence. As soon as I said her name he started tearing up, and by the time I got to the "I knew her" part, he was running out of the classroom bawling.
The odd thing, though, is that apparently he never once shed a tear during the funeral services, the ensuing home visits, the memorial service, or at school, despite the fact that many people have approached him and the subject has been breached several times.
Grief comes in many forms, and always at its own pace.
I realized that, today, as I was relating the events of this morning to one of my colleagues who was closely involved in helping out the family during the accident. I realized that my feelings for my little student had never really been expressed, and that I have a tendency to bottle things up when I am truly upset. Telling Claudia about what happened today made me open up to her about the brothers I lost 22 years ago. I rarely, if ever, talk about them, but I think about them nearly every day.
I cried for my student today, and for my brothers, whom I don't think I've ever thought to grieve for.
It made me think of another little girl who is new in my class and in this country who was crying today. She was crying for her country- El Salvador- for the people she's lost in the drug wars, the ones she had to leave behind in moving to the U.S., and for the new people here in this strange country who don't know her because they can't talk to her.
It made me realize how precious and fragile our time here is, and how we are all we really have. It made me realize how much I love teaching and getting to share a little moment of these precious children's lives. They amaze me with their strength, their courage, and their goodness. It made me realize how lucky I feel to be alive.
Leslie gave me a rose after 5th period today. She said she picked it from her house today before leaving and she wanted me to have it. I feel blessed.