new beginning

This week has been hard.  It's the first week of school.  I find myself looking at the clock thinking about what is happening at school.  People innocently mention school assuming I'm teaching and I get teary eyed and making the person feel uncomfortable.  I wish I could have a channel on my t.v. that lets me in to see school.  I miss listening to the kids.  I miss learning, feeling energized by the excitement  of something new the kids bring.  I know this is just part of the adjustment, the grieving.  It will get better.

The Clock

Clocks.  I don't like clocks.  I don't wear a watch.  I don't like being a slave to time.  I want time to be endless.  I want time to be a now and not measured.  I want it to just be with no restraints.
I want..I don't..but it is.  It is measurable.  It does have boundaries and it does control my life.
I find myself looking at the clock often and thinking about school and what is happening at that time.  There doesn't need to be a bell for me to remember; the hands of the clocks point to the memories.

time away

Here in the northern lake land of Minnesota, the only things to ponder are: if the clouds are moving in too fast, did the squirrel bury a nut where a tree need not grow, is the bait fresh enough for fishing, did I leave any crumbs for the chipmunk.  The important things, the things that make the world go round.  I can feel a peace.  We needed a place to venture to that had just nature.  I'm looking forward to giving myself to nature and is cleansing.

Grieving

Yettee the teacher died this spring.  There was a wake and a funeral and I was there.
Some would call it retirement but not me. I call it death.
 I have cried and felt self pity and an emptiness.

I never knew how awful it was going to be.  Nobody talked about it.  I never asked.  Never again will I say congratulation to someone when they are going to retire.
Most people congradulated me.  What for?  I didn't win anything.  I didn't accomplish anything.  Part of me was dying.

I didn't tell anyone.  I didn't want to talk about it.  It makes me sad.  I really loved teaching.  I loved the kids and learning with them.  I loved helping them overcome their challenges. I loved watching them grow through the years.  I loved the warm fuzzy the kids gave me.  I loved it all and now it's gone.

Funerals are for the living for the ones left behind.  This was no different.  Mary, Deb and Janelle organized a "wake". They needed a way to say goodbye.   A group of ladies gathered together and shared a meal and some very kind words and memories for me.  I cried.  Not everyone hears the kind thoughts people may have but never say out loud, I was very fortunate and did.  I truly love them for doing that for me.

The last day of school at the lunch, there was a basket for cards, cake, a meal, people who had connections to the 3  retirees came, kind words were spoken (the eulogies), hugs.  I cried.  And then I had to get out of there.  I just wished everyone would quit being so nice to me.  But they needed to say goodbye.

And so here I sit.  Tomorrow another year begins at school and I'm still grieving.

Some have told me, it's a new chapter in your life.  I think it's more like a new book.  I know I will make it through all the steps in the grieving process.  I know I now have the opportunity to develop the other parts of me who have had to take a back seat to the teacher.

The teacher has died but I haven't.