Room 23

This year I am going to be teaching First Graders, so I was moved to a new room in a different building; Room 23.  My principal gave me a choice of several rooms to move to, and 23 was my choice.

There are two things I particularly love about my new location.  For one, it faces the street, and there's a rather large patch of shaded grass outside our door.  I'm pretty excited about that.  And here's the other thing... Room 23 was Mary's room.

Its been more than a year since Mary passed away, and I hadn't ever gone back to her room until now.  I've spent the past few days cleaning, unpacking, and organizing in there.  Getting a feel for my year ahead.

Sometimes when I'm at home thinking and planning for this teaching change, I get a little anxious.  I just really want to do a good job, and I know I can, but I'm an over-analyzer.   When I get to school, though, I just feel calm.  It's like I go in my room and everything gets clear.  I relax.

I sometimes think of Mary as I'm working.  Maybe it sounds silly, but I feel her there with me.  Not in a literal sense, just in my mind.  I remember things she used to do with her kids, and things she said, or advice she gave me.

Yesterday I had this great idea to make buckets of math tools for the tables and call them "toolkits."  I was halfway though putting them together when  I realized this was Mary's idea from years ago.  I'd forgotten all about that.

Today I was sorting though some phonics card games.  I came across a picture sequencing game and I wondered how I could use it with younger kids.  Then a picture of Mary using it in certain way just popped in my head, and I thought...Yeah!  That's just what I'll do.  Then after a moment I flipped the box over and sure enough, there was her name printed neatly in Sharpie, always at an angle, always with that distinctive, perfect Q.  Funny, out of the 10 games I sorted that was the only one of hers still left.

So do I think she was really there?  No, not really.  I don't believe in that.  I believe her soul went on to a better place, but that her spirit lives on in all of us whose lives she touched.

I was thinking about this today and I realized that nobody is ever gone, not truly.  We all affect lives every day in one way or another, and when we're gone, those memories speak to people.  Mary may be gone, but my memory of her is guiding me.

All this year, I've been troubled by worries about leaving behind my girls if anything should ever happen to me.  But today I felt that maybe I would be able to start letting that go.  I'm beginning to understand that even if I did have to leave them, their memories of me would speak to them years from now.  Memories long forgotten would still be there when that perfect time for remembrance came.  Then I would be there, if only in their minds and hearts.  It's something, and it gives me comfort.

That's the lesson I learned today in Room 23.