The memorial service for the student who passed away last weekend was held today. I went with a group of teachers so we could support each other and students. The church was packed and hushed, and the service was emotional. Students — his friends — spoke about their memories of the deceased, and about his best qualities, and about the love that exists between friends. The pain in the tremors in their words was hard to hear. That was the hardest part of being there for me. But hearing all the wonderful memories, how much this person touched those around him with his large heart and humor-filled personality, was also the best part about being there too. I almost cried when someone read “Goodnight Moon,” which was one of his favorite books when he was a child.
A few of us went out for a late lunch afterwards and just being around each other was helpful. Not that I’ll ever forget this incident, and surely there is still going to be an aftermath for weeks to come, but with this, I think I’m done talking about it on this blog. There’s probably just going to be one more post about how this relates to teaching at some point in the future.
Goodnight noises everywhere