Thursday, August 18, 2016

Childhood Memories

Last week's connection with my childhood friends left me wishing once again to connect with the 2nd grade teacher that two of us shared. She must be in her 70's by now and if I wait any longer...

On Monday morning I left a query as to the whereabouts of my teacher on my hometown's Facebook page and was pleased to find a reply not too much later. One person tagged another and I soon had both a married name and an address. On Tuesday morning I dropped a card in the mail. This afternoon I received a phone call.

There are only a handful of teachers I would actively seek out and this one is special among those. It's been 44 years since I left her classroom, but she has stayed with me all those years. She was wonderful and special to start with, but one simple act of kindness on her part carried me through some difficult days.

Trauma, in one way or another, reaches into the life of every child, and it arrives in many forms. My second grade trauma arrived in June of 1972 when the mother of a classmate died quite suddenly. She was also a family friend and neighbor. I knew what happened well before I arrived at school that morning... The trauma had already begun to set in.

I sat at my desk surrounded by the chatter of fellow students. I imagine myself silent, staring. Perhaps there were signs of trauma already in my expression. The door to the classroom opened and the Principal entered. He walked across the front of the room, put his hand up to the side of his mouth, and whispered in the teacher's ear. I watched my teacher's eyes close, her mouth drop open, and her face turn red. She threw her hands up over her face and ran from the room. And I knew why. The classroom fell silent, but I was the only child in a class of 28 who knew why our teacher had just run from the room in tears.

The principal stayed with us and read a story, or something I can't recall, while my mind spun and somewhere in another place in the building my teacher attempted to collect and compose herself before returning to the classroom. I don't know how long it was before she returned, but not long after her return she took me out into the hall and talked gently to me. All I can recall these years later was her saying something about us "not always understanding why things like this happen." She was tender and kind and spoke only words of encouragement. It was the only bit of counseling I would ever receive. The school year ended a week or two later. She never could have known how much I already knew about the event, or how much her actions would mean to me even all these years later.

On Monday I will meet my second grade teacher again. I am looking forward to a long hug, some good conversation, and perhaps a few tears as well.

8 comments:

  1. This brought tears to my eyes. We really were asked to shoulder a lot as young children. Through it all...we were fortunate to have very supportive parents.

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    1. The strange thing is that it all seemed oddly almost normal, even though we knew it wasn't.

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  2. This made me cry as well. I remember seeing Dad carrying Lisa across the Sullivan's yard that morning, from her own house to ours, and I knew her mom had died, but I couldn't grasp what death even was or what was happening. Sorry you guys had to go through that at such a young age, I was protected somewhat by my naivety.
    I'm glad you're going to get together with your teacher from all those years ago. How touching it must be to her, knowing how her words affected you that day. Hope you have a wonderful visit together.

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    1. I don't remember Dad carrying Lisa, but I know he did. I do remember hearing Mom make the phone call to Emergency, which was the equivalent of 911.
      I'm looking forward to seeing this teacher. It's been a long time.

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  3. Things from our childhoods can last forever, they help make us who we are. Sunday I'm meeting up with classmates for our 52th high school reunion and several friends who started kindergarden with me are going to be here. Enjoy your time reminiscing.

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    1. Yes, Tom, they do. We must remember that those things can make us rather than break us depending on how we use them.I can't wait to see this old friend.
      52 years! Wow, that's great.

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  4. I have a few teachers that made a huge impact on me and I am grateful for them. Enjoy your visit!

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    1. I plan to enjoy it very much. I loved our telephone conversation and I can't wait to see her in person.
      :0)

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