Where Do I Go From Here?

 In the night or early morning hours of Wednesday, June 2nd, 2021, my Mom passed from this life into the eternal realms beyond. She'd been struggling with a number of illnesses; the doctors said that some of the damage had been irreversible and that she likely would never have walked again. We knew she was sick, but I don’t think any of us expected these difficulties to end her life. But I don't think she would have wanted to live like that. So maybe this outcome is for the best

In the past couple of days I've talked with several people about it. It seems that they (and I, to be honest) all have the same question: "How are you doing?"

I don't have a good answer to that question. I've never lost someone this close to me. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel.

I know I'm supposed to be sad, and I am.

I know it's supposed to hurt, and it does.

I know the sorrow is going to come at me when I least expect it, and it has.

I know that I have to keep going in spite of all this and … well, that's where it all kind of falls apart.

We'll be traveling out of state for the funeral in a few days, and there's a lot to do in preparation. Laundry, for one thing. We've got a veritable mountain of it at the moment. Part of the plan for yesterday was for me to spend a big chunk of the day folding it.

I folded one set of pajamas, one shirt, one pair of socks, and five pairs of seven-year-old-boy underwear yesterday.

With Nancy's help we got some car repairs done today. I kept the kids fed and hydrated. I had a long talk with an old friend that helped immeasurably. So it's not like the day was a total waste. But it still feels kind of that way.

I got the news Wednesday at about 10:30 a.m. The good news is that this is the last week of school, and I had finalized grades about an hour before. I tried in vain to get some other stuff done, but my heart just wasn't in it. I talked to my principal, and he sent me straight home and forbade me to come help at yesterday's graduation ceremony. Which was fine; it was about 95°F (35°C) out there today and I would have been miserable. Well, more miserable, I suppose.

I’m back in the building today to finish my year-end checkout. We also have the traditional end-of-year luncheon, so I'll go and mingle and say goodbye for the summer. I'll find a way to keep it together. 

I've already received a couple of e-mails from students about their grades. I didn't look closely at them, but they are of the "How do I fix my grade?" variety. I don't know how to respond, or if I even will. At this point, I don't give a pair of dingo's kidneys about your grades, kiddos. You got what you earned. Anything beyond that, especially right now, falls clearly within the realm of "No Longer My Problem". Sorry if I seem unsympathetic, but right now, your A- is the farthest thing from my mind.

(I can't help but think of something funny my sassy Mom occasionally said: "You want sympathy? Check the dictionary. It's between s*** and syphilis.")

Mom was a teacher, too. She taught elementary and middle school for something like 30 years. For that alone she deserves a "Get Out Of Purgatory Free" card, I think. She was a great and impactful teacher, and the reason was that she loved the kids. She loved them enough to do anything to help them succeed … even if that sometimes meant letting them fail. She had developed the perfect balance between being her students' cheerleader and not putting up with their crap. That's not an easy balance to strike, believe you me.

And she was a teacher to me, too. I was never a student in her class (although both of my brothers were), but I learned much of what I am today as a human being from her in our home. More specifically, I went into my teaching career knowing something of what the teacher life involved because I’d watched her live it for so many years. I talked to her a number of times about what was going on in my classroom because I knew she’d know exactly what I was going through. It helped a lot in those early years. 

She lost her own mom (Granny) not all that long ago. So I know she knew exactly what I’m feeling right now. 

I wish I could talk to her right now. She’d know just what to say.

Mom has finished her race, and changed the lives of innumerable people along the way. And now we have to go on without her.

I’m still figuring out what that means. I feel like I’ll be doing that for a while.