A Cubbie has gone home...

We are heartbroken today at White Oak Elementary.  One of our own had just started her journey into retirement when she was called home yesterday.  She was one of my connections in 2nd grade when I came to White Oak.  She would quietly give me a heads up if I was not doing something the "White Oak way."  We shared numerous conversations about being caregivers for our families and the blessings from that responsibility.  I will forever be grateful for her listening ear from someone that truly understood.

It is funny, being a teacher, work is most always fun.  Teresa was one of the best at that.  When maker space hit the classroom, she excelled at connecting maker space projects to books.  She always had a craft or an outside of the classroom addition to the lesson at hand. 

I have been thinking about her favorite one liners today....

"NOT Today!"

"Why can't I just write it?"

"Beth, come fix this!"

"You save me a seat?"

"It is going to be alright."

"Oh, (fill in teacher's name)  to be sure not!"

The playground bench was one of her favorite places, and the team had some of the best talks out there.  When recess finally returns to normal, we will save a seat for you on the bench, cause you will always be out there.  We can hope that there is a playground in heaven that needs supervision.  

 

A rich heritage...

Rich...they were not rich by worldly means.  I never knew that as a child.  What I did know was that my grandparents loved us so true that nothing got in their way of being there.  Being present and being involved was their love language and I always felt loved. 

In the past several days I have tried to pick out memories of just me and Grandaddy, I have very few of him and I alone before grandma passed.  The reason is they were always together, always.  Even though they had two total opposite personalities, it is hard to talk about one without the other.  Besides the fact my grandma did not have a license, they fully depended on each other for most anything.  Their marriage to me is a testament to true commitment to one another. 

He had the strongest heart, even though sometimes it was broken he loved with more heart than he had.  That rich heritage of loving your family with everything you have is something I am proud to have received.

My Good Man

Today is your birthday, 83, you probably don't know it.  Maybe that is a good thing, that you don't remember this year or this time.  This time without us, without grandma, without the rest of the family. But, I do hope you remember us.  I hope you remember all the times together and how much we love you.  The family vacations and times spent in the swing.   

COVID has stolen so much from so many people, especially you.  It has stolen our time together, the precious time when you still remembered us, all the kids' names, and memories that we liked to repeat.  Your quiet presence, gentle smile, and arm out for a hug are the things that I have missed the most.

Two weeks ago when I saw you, you were not the man I knew, nor were you the man that I wanted you to remain to be.  You were a man that was struggling to stay present even though your body was very sick.  Now we get updates through nurses who are taking good care of you.  But, I am jealous, I want to be the one talking to you and helping you eat.  For now that is the way we will have to accept even though it is painful to know you are sick and we are not to be able to help you.

Happy birthday, Grandaddy...until we can see you again.  We love you and I have to believe you remember that in your heart.

The Black Haired Grandma

See the name came from Kristen, in comparison to our shared Grandma Sarah Mae who certainly did not have black hair.  She was quiet, with a sincere grin, and a loving whisper.

She wasn’t my grandma but sometimes I felt like she kind of was.  In the days before Kristen and Charles when I would stay with Susie on Cartwright, I saw her often.  Her smile was so welcoming as she sat down beside me to talk or show me something.  When we would visit the house by the college, I always enjoyed all the interesting things her and Mr. Jones had on display, my favorite was the rock that looked like a president, I don’t remember which one.  There I learned about homing pigeons and crafts.

When I started teaching she brought me things to make crafts with and Mr. Jones even brought his pigeons to release at school to amaze the kids.  In later years, after she came to share Thanksgiving at my house and had her reserved seat in the dining room with the other grandmas chatting away about recipes and days gone by.

Her and Mr. Jones will be remembered as always helping and always loving their own and others.