Track
Dear My Honey,
You know that student, THE ONE that holds such a special place in your heart? The one that you would do anything for? Well, normally I don’t see him at school very often because he is in a different area of the building and our paths typically don’t cross.
Yesterday, when I left school, the kids were outside running for track practice. It was brutal. The snow was up to their waists in most places, and over their heads where the big mountains had been built from the snow that was plowed from the parking lot. The track field was covered in snow and I wondered where they were planning to run? It was also bitterly cold yesterday, and the kids were shivering and crossing their arms, rubbing their skin to keep warm. I walked to my car and noticed that the coaches had decided to have the kids run around the parking lot.
I had to wait for quite awhile for a gap between kids so that I could safely get out. While I waited, that boy, you know the one, turned the corner and started to come right in front of the car. He was huffing and puffing. And walking. He looked exhausted, but he wasn’t giving up. I thought of how proud you would be to see him pushing himself like that. He didn’t see me right away, so of course I beeped the horn and frantically waved both hands to get his attention, realizing how much this would have embarrassed you and every other member of our family. And as you know, I didn’t care, I never do! Well, he saw me and his face lit up. I gave him two big, pumping thumbs up and beeped the horn in that crazy way I like to do, just for him. Then I drove home, smiling inside and out.
Today, I rode the emotional roller coaster of life all day at school. I started out having a great day, only to be cut down at the knees by something very unexpected. After lunch, I walked to the teacher workroom to get something for my next group of students, and there he was again. That boy. He was heading to his special education classroom. I looked at him, smiled, and said hello. He stopped me, saying,
“Hey, Mrs. Lohoff. Do you remember that day last year when you were in Mr. Lohoff’s room, and I was there too? Do you remember that I told Mr. Lohoff that I would run track? Do you remember that?” I told him that I did, and I truly do remember that day. “Well, I just want you to know that EVERY time I run….. EVERY TIME…. I’m running for Mr. Lohoff. And for you,” he said, looking me directly in the eyes.
And then I cried. I gave him a hug and thanked him for being so kind. And I cried.
I walked with him into the classroom and thanked him again. And then I told him, “Mr. Lohoff is so proud of you and so am I, but I want you to run for him , for me, AND for yourself.” Then I told him what today was.
Today, one year ago, was the last day that you worked. You walked out of school, hobbling with your cane, on Thursday, April 20,2017 never knowing that you wouldn’t
return. The next morning, you had physical therapy, and afterwards you were in a lot of pain, so you went home to rest and get ready for work the next week. By Monday, I was driving you to Marshfield, WI to fight and get your surgery date moved up so that the cervical stenosis they felt was causing the pain could be corrected. As we made that drive, we had no idea that we would return home being told that you had cancer. We had no idea that they would later say that it wasn’t cancer after all, only to spend almost two weeks diagnosing you with one of the worst cancers out there. We had no idea that you wouldn’t get to cheer this boy on, or that you would never work with the kids again.
I just needed you to know what this boy is doing, and what he he told me today. I know that you are cheering him on; I know that you are cheering us all on.
Miss you,
Your Brown-Eyed Girl
If you, or someone you care about is dealing with grief, here are some tips for coping with grief from people who are dealing with it themselves!
