"The week everything happened"

 We reference the day of October 20, 2015, as "the week everything happened." No one says what happened, but we are all reminded just how big that hole is. 

 

That week defined a lot for us at Rapides High---or at least in my classroom. That week was a fog---a fog of tears, hugs, and unbelief. That week we truly solidified that we are a family. That week we grew closer than ever. That week we truly learned. That week boundaries were broken because we were broken. 

 

And now, only---

                            already---six weeks later, we are still growing. We are still sharing stories of butterflies. We are still sharing life. We have moments where some just need to chat. We have moments where tears form from nowhere. We are still that close family. 

 

We are still learning about this life without her big hearty laugh and smile. We find her in the poems we read. She even shows up in our essays at times. Sometimes, I swear I see her in the halls or at a ball game. She is our memoir of this school year. She bridged a gap for many of us.

We were broken in a thousand pieces when we lost her, but we are slowly rebuilding ourselves to a better version---a version where we never forget her or what she meant to us or what she did for us.

 

As a teacher, I lost one of my own. I watched as my own mourned like they have never mourned before. I watched as some, who have unfairly buried parents, mourn with a new awakening. My heart wretched as my tough boys become mush in my arms. My stomach turned as my girls screamed, and didn’t even bother with make-up.  I wanted to take their pain. I wanted to protect them from this loss and this hurt. My heart grew by leaps and bounds and I knew that this was the closest thing to a mother’s love that I have experienced.

 

Now, I look in their eyes and I see the memories. I see the growth. I see the healing. I see the longing. I see her. And my, what a beautiful view is it for me to behold.