It's March, and March is for slicing. Anyone is welcome to join us through Two Writing Teachers, slicing, sharing, and commenting on other slices!
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As I walked toward the high school entrance for the morning of district-wide professional development, I knew that I would experience some emotional moments and probably even a flash of hot tears before the morning ended. Other teachers walked into the building together, having met in the parking lot. Maybe even planned their meeting or picked up coffee for each other. I walked in alone.
My friend Sharyl saw me, and somehow she knew that today could be another especially hard day. "You'll sit with me," she said. Usually for these sort of days, Dena would be on one side of me. I hope Sharyl knows how much I appreciated her this morning. I told her, and I'll be sure to tell her again.
My position in the district is somewhat of a unicorn position, especially now. While there are other reading specialists and other math coaches and other administrators, I am the only writing and social studies coordinator. Until the pandemic, my counterpart and partner was Dena. She was the math and science coordinator. We shared an office, responsibilities and frustrations. We also shared secrets, laughs, and special moments. Covid scared Dena, and rightly so. She had many health complications that would have been frightening to miss with a positive covid test. I was happy she chose to teach from home when she had the option, but I only got to see the two-dimensional version of Dena on my computer screen. After the year of teaching distance-learning, the district re-structured, and Dena moved into a different position. Her new role meant that we no longer shared a home school, and I saw her only when I was working in her school.
For the last few months, Dena had many physical challenges, and at the end of February, it was all too much for her. Since receiving her brother's devastating text a few weeks ago, I've navigated the spaces and places of schools. How are you? people ask. Are you doing okay? they ask.
No. Not really.
Before our district's main organizer introduced the keynote speaker, Maggie took a moment to remember Dena and acknowledge the many contributions she made to all of us. Sharyl touched my leg, and I blinked quickly, pressing the hot tears away. I'd save them for later.
Missing people has predictable moments, as well as moments that sneak up on you. I try to hold onto the truth that grief only happens when you love something or someone enough to feel it. There are still such hard moments, though.
Hug the people you love.
Oh, Melanie. I'm sending warm thoughts your way. Navigating grief is, I think, a lifetime journey. The intensity eases but there are always moments that push through and send those hot tears to the surface. I'm so glad that you're surrounded by supportive friends and hope that writing also helps. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThe love for your friend shines through here. It must feel hard, but comforting, to know others are sharing in your grief.
ReplyDeleteDena sounds incredibly strong and brave. Your words are heartfelt. Your appreciation for colleagues who are friends shines. Hugs to you, Melanie! Thanks for sharing!
ReplyDeleteSome of the people I work with are my greatest friends. I’m so sorry for your loss. ❤️ Jess
ReplyDeleteMelanie, I am so sorry to hear of your loss. A tear sprung to my eye just reading this.
ReplyDeleteOh my gosh, Melanie. With your words, you have deftly taken us to sit and be beside you at your professional event. I can sense the latent burbling tears and how challenging it must have been to be there. Sending you loving hugs. Heidi (Wordsmithing blog)
ReplyDeleteWe grieve because we have loved. While grief is hard it helps us to appreciate what we have and what we have experienced. Grief helps us to appreciate what we have in the moment and to focus on what is important. I am sorry for the loss of your friend and coworker.
ReplyDeleteMelanie, this is heartbreaking. I'm deeply sorry for your loss of your friend. Somehow when it hits this close to home, we grieve not only for the loss of a friend, but for the loss of that person's footprints on the world. I'm glad you shared in her life's journey.
ReplyDeleteSo sorry, Melanie. I can only hope that through writing this honest post, you gained a bit of comfort as you remembered this dear friend.
ReplyDeleteOh Melanie - this made me cry. I’m sorry for your loss. One of my best friends passed away almost 3 years ago, and I’m struck by grief sometimes at times that make sense, and other times it seems random. Memories are a blessing, but can be hard too.
ReplyDeleteThis- I try to hold onto the truth that grief only happens when you love something or someone enough to feel it.- This is what helps us through. Sending thoughts your way.
ReplyDeleteHugs, and gratitude for good friends. Your last paragraph says it very well.
ReplyDeleteI read your post earlier on my phone and knew I had to come back and respond. Sending healing thoughts and prayerful thoughts for you and your friend.
ReplyDeleteWhat a beautiful post, Melanie. This makes me realize how much more I need to tell my colleagues how awesome they are and how much I enjoy working with them. I don't do this enough in any area of my life. Thank you for reminding me how important it is.
ReplyDelete