Loss

As I entered my room the other day, I was surprised to find a small group of visitors already inside. To my utter delight, one of the visitors was Nancy, the admission director at another private school my son had attended when he was in grade school.

I won't lie and say she looked the same. Nancy sported a few grey strands just like me but her smile and sparkling eyes have NOT changed, and I felt as warm and welcomed as ever. We tried to condense years of what's happened with our children who were classmates to a few precious minutes so as not to delay the tour too much but the time came when we needed to say goodbye. As I gave Nancy a parting hug and asked her to convey my heartiest regards to the school's founder, Nancy pulled away while gently asking me, "Didn't you hear? Laura passed away in March."

Thank goodness these admission administrators possess the intuitiveness and sensitivity that they do. My face must've registered shock or something so they moved on to another classroom while I quickly exited mine and headed for the bathroom to gather myself.

It's one thing to deal with loss and grief when it's fresh and in the now. Finding out about someone's passing months or even years after it's happened - well, it's just weird. It's not like Laura was a good friend or that I'd been in contact with her. But we were one of the school's families and I did work there for a little while. I saw Laura on a daily basis and we had wonderful chats. She was a smart lady who had this dream about creating a school for "bright and curious children", and we loved our experience there.

I know Laura's spirit lives on and her school embodies her passion for learning. Here's to you, Laura. May your Light brighten the other side as much as it brightened our world.