I live in the future. It's a very bad habit of mine. I realize it serves me well in many ways (and being prepared for whatever comes next because I've already thought about it for days—or years—on end can really be an asset), but it keeps me up at night more often than I'd like to admit. Planning, worrying, contemplating. And it leads to ridicules piles of magazine pages with details about how to get your teenager to talk to you, how to find the perfect bra, when to plant bulbs... for that "some day" when I might need that particular advice. I often remind myself that I need to live more in the moment. To stop multitasking and planning and fretting and just listen and enjoy and soak it all in. I had a very sad reminder today of how important that is.
Hawthorne's kindergarten teacher passed away last night after battling cancer for only 6 months. She was a neat person, and a wonderful teacher, and she still had so much life to live. She had only one more year of teaching until she retired, and I'm so sad for her and her family and even that last class of students who will never know her. She didn't have the experience of wrapping up a career and starting a new chapter in her life. And it breaks my heart. I wasn't prepared for her death—or my reaction to it.
She'll be remembered by so many who learned from her, taught by her side, and entrusted her with their children. I'll always be thankful that we were one of the families touched by her calling as a teacher.
Her death has reminded me how important it is not only to live in the moment but to love it. To appreciate what it is and to be present for it. (Always the teacher.)
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