news from home
March 19, 2010
I just got an email from Heather, a weekly update, similar to the daily updates my mom sends and among the lines of fever of her little one, and normal day occurrences, I learned that one of my former students will soon die under hospice care. I cringe as I type the word “die” as if it is too final. That he at least deserves hope until the end. It started with melanoma I remember, and though it sends shivers down my spine at its closeness, I think of the 10th grader I once knew and I wonder how the years could have treated him so unkindly? I think he had moved down south, the Carolina’s or Georgia perhaps. Yes, construction, I think. As a teacher, it is funny how many students can come in and out of your life, remaining somewhat frozen in time with only bits of information heard in the small town banter of grocery stores and restaurants which can only add fragments to your adolescent vision of them. I can’t help the sadness that comes when I think of the frustration he once caused me with his uncontrollable boldness and his deficient attention which most of his teachers quite frankly cringed at. I can’t help but be angry that his energy somehow failed him. How could a teenager who had undying vigor in trying to disrupt every lesson plan I ever created, not beat this cancer that invaded his body through a mole in his ear? How many times did I utter his name with my hand to my head, secretly loving the challenge he provided me. Eleven years teaching, three students gone. Tim, Shane and now Todd. It just doesn’t seem fair.
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