Yesterday was a terrible, terrible day. A tragic event, which in an attempt to maintain some semblance of privacy for the family, I shall not name now. At some point I might, but not now.
But–I have a question:
One thing that is forgotten about many discussions of the teaching profession is at first, and fundamentally, we are humans. We are mortal. We hurt and heal one another. In all of our classes, courses, professional development, assessment and data design, how many more things can we layer on top, crushing this human spirit?
How do you handle the loss of a child, a student?
I need to know.
Dear Mrs. Love,
There are, of course, now words, though we rarely dwell on what “no words” means.
Anyone who loves cannot handle the loss of a child. Most of us struggle to even accept it.
The same part of you that makes you who you are, that allows you to be hurt and to heal, to forgive, to be alive, is the part that makes the world dissolve when you have something like this happen.
There are no words, but in the end, I guess, it’s love that sustains us. I worry about even writing those words, words seem trite now.
I’ve lost a few children as a pediatrician–and I never did learn the “secret” to professional coolness.
We’re all thinking of you, and a child, and a child’s family.
We all need to carry each other.
I am–angry. And bargaining. If–then–that–I–will–I overwhelmingly feel like my message in the bottle got to the right shores in your capable hands.
And I am out of words, but still have tears.
I’m so sorry.
I will have my current principal translate something for her parents, and that is–I would have remembered her no matter what. She was one of “those students” that gets in our hearts with their light.