I’ve been going through old boxes, trying to sell off what I just haven’t used in years. I was about to list a book I received from a fellow teacher as I left school that last year, when I opened the cover. Inside I read:
To the wise brilliant
I shall miss you.
That is simply the beginning and the ending of it.
Laura has enjoyed picking this up and reading an essay here and there.
You are a mother who will think – but not only with her head but with her heart also.
I sure can’t sell this one. I certainly don’t feel like the same girl she considered her peer (even though her daughter was older than I.) Part of me, I admit, does miss that year of teaching; I’d consider going back if I thought I had hope of a repeat of that environment. I miss Connie, and those other teachers with whom I taught that year, and it was very difficult to box up my life and move here. But that’s all fluff. There aren’t words to express how much that inscription, three years later, has touched me, and I think it has nothing to do with everything I previously mentionned.