aftershock

Last Sunday night a huge wave of grief knocked me down and carried me out to sea. Grief with out words that pulled me deep under, churning and visionless. I finally fell asleep, but woke up Monday morning sobbing, took a shower and got ready for work, still crying. I made it through the week, and was very present for my students. And then yesterday I hibernated and couldn't even concentrate enough to read. Something was working its way to the surface, and today I finally named it.

Five years ago, so long ago, so recent, Katie went to work with me during the month of January. Her college was on the semester system, so she was home most of that month, and she chose to commute with me 45 minutes each way to Willows. A really long day. She did all of my results testing and helped another teacher with hers. She made copies of the little phonics readers that went with our reading program and folded and stapled them and wrote each child's name on them, one for every week through the rest of the school year. She read to kids and she listened to kids read. She played her clarinet for them and watched them paint and ate lunch with me.

She spent all morning with my kindergarten class and the afternoon with my reading intervention groups, first and second and third graders. What a gift she was to me. She should have been sleeping in and hanging out with friends and watching movies, but she wanted to spend time with me. One morning she didn't wake up, and I thought it would be good to let her sleep in. She called me while I was driving to school and was so annoyed with me that I hadn't woken her up.

What a gift she gave me, those memories. It was only my second year of teaching, and I think she wanted to see me be successful, to help me be successful. And I miss my beautiful girl so much. She was amazing.