I didn't sleep last night, just like most of the people in my immediate part of the world, I'm sure. I wrote in my head, tossed and turned, dreamed of at least 3 different car accidents, and stared at My Babe sleeping soundly beside me (and thank you, dear God, for that.) I need not be reminded of the brief time we have on this earth with our loved ones. I think about that every time I kiss My Babe as he walks out the door to one of the riskiest jobs around. I do not rest until he walks back in the door again. I know that each day I have with my family, my team, my friends might be my last. And somehow, I forget that all at the same time. I forget to live in the moment, to choose kindness, to love unconditionally, to give the benefit of the doubt, and to give freely to others.
Nothing brings it home more than death.
Three of our teachers were killed in a car accident yesterday.
Susan, our speech therapist, loved our team and always wanted to teach with us. According to her, we were her favorite team. Our neighbor until just recently, she and her husband had just moved to their dream home. She couldn't wait for us to come over for a pool party. She worked closely with our kindergarten children and did an amazing job with them.
Pat, our counselor, was probably the most well dressed counselor in the world. Always organized, always proper, and always ready to party. Pat dancing at Nat's wedding was quite a sight to behold. I think we all nearly peed in our pants from laughter that night. Pat and I always joked at how we couldn't look at each other during meetings because, inevitably, one of us would make a face and set the other one off laughing at an inappropriate time.
Debbie, a first grade teacher, taught kindergarten with us for a couple of years. Never have I met a woman more capable than Debbie of being a successful stand-up comedian. Teaching with Debbie kept us hysterical on most days. Like Pat, she was always well dressed, never repeating an outfit within a year's time span. Recess in a full mink coat posed quite a few laughs, as well as her stories of porridge (beef stew to her) and using striped toothpaste and Bisquick to fill in holes in apartment ceilings and walls (in Texas...in the summer...you get the picture).
Susan, Pat, and Debbie...you are loved and will be missed.