And that is dying...

I went to visit a friend whose wife had passed away and remembering how nice everyone was when my dad passed away, I got him a card and gift card, even though it's been a couple months.

So he sent me a thank you, and inside was a story, typed and printed out on a piece of paper...

"I am standing upon the seashore. A ship at my side spreads her white sails to the morning breeze and starts for the blue ocean. She is an object of beauty and strength.

I stand and watch her until at length, she hangs like a speck of white cloud just where the sea and the sky come to mingle with each other.

Then someone at my side says, 'There, she is gone!'

'Gone from where?'

Gone from my sight. That is all. She is just as large in mast and hull and spar as she was when she left my side and she is just as able to beat her load of living freight to her destined port.

Her diminished size is in me. not in her. And just at the moment when someone at my side says, 'She is gone,' there are other eyes watching her coming and other voices ready to take up the glad shout 'Here she comes!'

And that is dying..."

God and Grandpa Tom Heal the World

My nephew "drew" a picture on the computer that he name "God and Grandpa Tom Heal the World." It's too adorable for words, but it made me really miss my dad. He always did make everything better.

He always told us to eat our meat because it would put hair on our chest. I always told him I didn't want hair on my chest! But it would make me giggle all the same. He always made me laugh at horrible family gatherings when I refused to have fun - and what do you know, they're not so bad anymore (although I always miss him terribly whenever I see any of my extended family). He always tried to make things more fun, happier, more exciting. The night my grandma died, he gave me a beer. I wasn't old enough yet, but he was having one, so he probably thought I needed one too. I didn't have a beer the night he died, I just had a heart broken open so wide I'm surprised it's begun to heal.

But it has begun to heal. Because my dad, even though he's not here, has made his death better for all of us. He's healed us in a way that I didn't know was possible. I am able to remember things that weren't so important back then, but now I will never forget. He has made my life better because of his death. I don't take things for granted, I try to spend more time with family. Conversations and time spent with people are so very fragile that I try to take in the little things, like every second I'm with them.

So in a way, he has healed the world. My world. And my world has healed from the devastation his death wreaked. It's an interesting circle, isn't it?

Waste not new tears on old grief...

What a whirlwind of a few days I have had. And I can't even think that you might have had something to do with it.

One of my students committed suicide early Sunday morning. Since then, I have been overwhelmed with emotion, new and old. So this quote seems so appropriate. But I'm not sure what tears are new and what are old. In fact, I'm having trouble just deciphering what I might even be crying about.

Losing students at Southeast Polk was hard. It was harder than I could imagine because I saw all these students hurting. Time and time again.

This time, I'm at Waukee and the cycle is continuing, at least in my life. Another student dies, more students mourn and everyone learns to eventually move on, changed forever by events out of our control.

And here I am, spearheading a lot of the grieving process. Understanding what the students are going through simply because I have seen it so many times. So maybe there is a reason that you chose Waukee. Maybe you foresaw this coming and knew I would be the one that would help my students get through - especially since it directly affected a lot of MY students. This wasn't someone who knew someone who knew someone in one of my classes. This time, it was a student in my class. It was a person I knew, grew to love and will miss a lot. He was a great kid, but had a lot of things going on. It is hard, it hurts and I grieve for the loss of my student, and the loss my students will endure.

Since the beginning of the suicides at Southeast Polk, through your death and through this one, I have learned so many life lessons and I can't help but think this is another one. A major one, possibly as major as the one I learned when you died.

I am here to help students. This is the way I will get back to myself as a teacher. This is the way I will get back to myself as a person. This is where I am going to find my purpose and although I'm grieving, I am also motivated, determined, and willing to make the school's response to tragedy faster, better, more delicate.

So I can't help but think you have something to do with it.

Someone left me a note on my window today. A tiny piece of paper that reads, "You inspire me." Taped to the outside of my window. It was the first thing I saw when I sat down at my desk this morning, and it was more than a blow to my chest. I inspire someone. I used to inspire hundreds at Southeast Polk. Why can't I do it here?

I can't help but think...

It's times like these I miss you, but so thankful for the things you taught me in the wake of your death.

Dear Dad

I miss you every day of my life. I miss you when I drive to work in the morning. I miss you when I drive home. I miss you when I had a really good day teaching. I miss you when I had a bad day teaching. I miss you when I'm in Lowe's with Eric, I miss you when I pull into the driveway back home, I miss you when I'm planning our remodeling with Eric. I miss you when I am about to go to sleep, I miss you when I wake up. I miss you when I'm working, I miss you when I'm relaxing, I miss you every time I walk by the hutch you made us in the dining room.

My heart hurts every time I see a picture of you - especially pictures of you that were taken right before you died. My heart hurts every time I think of all the things I'm doing in my life without you. My heart hurts every time I laugh about something you might have done, or said. My heart hurts every time I think about having children. My heart hurts when I'm getting together with friends, just like you and mom used to do. My heart hurts to know you're not here to watch me "grow up."

I smile each time I think of the stupid things you made me do, and everything I learned from it. I smile each time Eric makes me laugh when he says something that might as well have come from your mouth. I smile each time I'm reminded what a great guy you were. I smile when I realize I had 26 wonderful years with you as my dad. And I'll have so many more, but you just won't be here.

I miss you every day of my life. But I thank you for each of those days as well, for you made me who I am.

Dear LIFE

Well, LIFE, you certainly have been interesting the past few months. But if I can survive you for the last couple of months, I'm pretty sure I can survive everything you have to throw at me.

I have been beaten down, lifted up, accused, exonerated, stripped of my confidence in YOU and then given it back.

After the "verdict" came in on Friday, I was in shock. Part of me wanted to whoop with joy, but another part of me is still waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it has time and time and TIME again. But I guess I will enjoy it as long as I can, considering the other "party" hasn't been made aware of the "verdict." I wish I were there to see the looks on their faces - wouldn't it be absolutely glorious? Then I would pull out my most immature move in the book - most likely something like putting my thumbs to my temples, fingers outspread and saying, "Na-na-na-na-na-naaaaa!" But I guess I'll just do that in my head...and most likely every day that I've been stripped of the confidence I'm supposed to have in myself.

Because of all this, I'm still confused about LIFE in general. Is this truly what I'm supposed to be doing? How many teachers come back from this? Will I be able to? Where is my motivation? When I go to school tomorrow, will I be more confident in myself? Will this motivate me to be more willing to learn? Less willing to give in to the temptation to run and hide?

And most importantly, what will I do if I don't do this?

Jupiter

I saw Jupiter last night. In a clear, bright, BIG Wisconsin sky. It was beautiful. Today almost took my breath away as we drove through the southwestern part of Wisconsin. The sun was shining, there wasn't a cloud in the sky, and it was beautiful. The trees were all different colors of fall and there was a new view every time we came up over a hill. Thank you for the peace that it brought me. Especially after the past couple of weeks I've had.

I told my best friend the other night that now that you're gone, you work in mysterious ways. And there you were last night. And today. Gorgeous.

It's crazy how such tragedy can bring about such beautiful things. I wouldn't have known what to do these past three weeks had it not been for your death. I wouldn't have known the right things to say had it not been for you.

The death of someone near and dear does not come with a manual. There are no instructions to follow. So instead, I followed my heart...and it led me to have one of the most memorable nights and one of the most memorable days with people I love. People that accept me for all my flaws and mistakes and bad days.

Not every tragedy needs to have a tragic ending. Your tragedy gave me the strength, courage, and heart to do what I did this weekend. Your tragedy gave me the wisdom to say and do the right things. Your tragedy gave me serenity in mourning the death of someone you love and to celebrate the things they did while they were alive; the things you are doing now that you're gone.

So - grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

Love you, Dad, with a heart as big as the Wisconsin sky.

Dear Dad

Yes, I am back to addressing my dad. Life's cup has begun to overflow and I need the time and patience to help me through it.

So dad - I need your help with a few things. First off, continue to watch over Lane and Rachel. Lane had another surgery and although healing well, still has a cancerous tumor in his brain. Please please please watch over my greatest and dearest friend Courtney and she struggles with the pain of losing her dad. Please give her the great gift of knowing SHE will be ok in the end. It will be such a hard path for her to walk, but I know that you'll make sure she gets over the hurdles when I can't. Please continue to watch over me as I go through all that I'm going through with the BOEE and my new job. I've caught glimpses of you, but I know you're also trying to let me find my way.

I thank you over and over again for giving Eric all these great opportunities. He's been so busy with work and his cup has definitely been overflowing. He's been such a wonderful husband to me, and probably wouldn't have been had you not been his biggest fan when we were going through our toughest times.

I love you so so so much and know you're going to help me through it all. But right now, concentrate on Courtney. She's going to need it the most in the next couple of days.

Miss you beyond words -

Laura