A tribute

    We just got back from our 3rd trip.  It was . . . um, I don't know.  The point of the trip was to see a friend who is dying.
    When we found out that she had cancer, we tried to see her.  I don't know why but she and her husband decided to limit visitors to their home.  Nothing wrong with that - their decision and I respect it and them.  When it got to the point that she needed more care than he could give, they went to a hospice facility and allowed visitors.
   We went up as soon as we could.
   We spent 2 hours at the facility - mostly talking with her husband because A was sleeping.  I saw A for 5 minutes and in that 5 minutes watched her eyes go from drowsiness to pain.
   In 5 minutes.
   She doesn't look like herself.  Her body is small and big all at the same time.  Her voice sounds small and unsure and this lady was never unsure.  
    It hurts to see her like this - in pain and not who she was; who she really is.
    Let me tell you about her.
    My first "real" job was as a long term substitute.  I was coming into an awkward situation.  I was a long term sub for a long term sub who decided that teaching was not for him.  I remember one of the classes saying, "Yeah, we ran Mr. So and So off.  We are waiting to see how long it is before we run you off."  And this wasn't a city school, folks, but a farming community! 
   As a new teacher, you are supposed to get a mentor - someone to show you the ropes and give you advice.  As a substitute, it was not required despite my being a new teacher.  I was just thrown in the deep end and told to swim before the sharks got me. 
    Fortunately, the pool had some great coaches that took it upon themselves to make sure I would survive.  A was one of them.  She already had a men-tee but she took me on as well.  I learned a lot by just watching her.  She was who she was and was comfortable with that - important when you are dealing with folks who aren't comfortable with themselves.  They are hyper aware of frauds and will not respect you if they think  you are one.  She genuinely cared for her students (and others) and was probably the most diplomatic person I knew.  You could tell her anything and know that 1.  You weren't being judged and 2.  She would keep it to herself - I readily admit I fail in that aspect.  She listened.  She was so subtle in redirecting your thoughts and opinions that you never knew it.  She also had high standards and was very intelligent.  She wanted education to be better.  She knew it should be better from the top down too. 
   A, B (the official men-tee), and I became friends.  B and I would always say we wanted to be like A when we grew up.  She was the type of woman who knew how to change a tire and talk to a farmer (and I mean Amish farmer) about the latest crop and then could dress up for a black tie function and hobnob with foreign dignitaries.  I remember telling her that I wanted Emma to grow to be just like her. 
   I remember the look on her face - she was so pleasantly surprised.   I don't think that she realized how much I admired her. 
    I am glad I told her.