I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
It’s raining cats and dogs. The parking lot is almost empty.
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
My cold has settled into my chest and I really want to be
home in bed drinking orange juice and sleeping with a dog on my lap.
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
I only got a couple of hours sleep last night, spending most
of the night staring at the dark.
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
My best friend in my department died suddenly yesterday. His
office is around the corner from mine.
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
Students have covered his door in flowers and notes.
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
I didn’t cry yesterday, now I can’t stop. How can I teach like this?
I went to work today. I have classes to teach, students to
meet.
He was a great teacher, demanding and funny and always
carrying piles of blue books he had to grade.
Now we’ll never get to hear his big booming laugh again as he tells a
funny story. He inspired so many students for so long.
I went to work today.
I'm so sorry for your loss. Perhaps you could take a day for yourself, to regroup.
ReplyDeleteI'm also sorry to hear that. He sounds like one of the good ones.
ReplyDeleteOh, dear, Ma&M. I'm so sorry. I'm glad the students appreciated him. I hope he knew that while he was alive.
ReplyDeleteAnd, like BC, I'd suggest that you're entitled to some time to regroup. But I also admire you for putting one foot in front of the other, and, in doing so, I'm sure, serving as a reassuringly steady presence for students who may not know how to cope beyond piling flowers and notes, and for your colleagues as well. And no, the fact that you've been crying, and that students may have seen you crying, or have seen that you have been crying, doesn't undermine that. You're serving as an example of how we both grieve and go on. It's not an easy balance, and we all do it in different ways, but I fear the prevailing model -- an orgy of grief often followed by prolonged collapse/disorientation at the return of normal life -- is not necessarily the best or healthiest. At the very least, the value of a model which involves going on, breaking down (and taking a break) as necessary, but continuing to move forward as/when possible, accepting that grief is a recursive rather than a straight-line process, seems worth considering.
A deeply touching tribute, Ma&M. I agree with Cassandra that you can channel your grief in ways that set a good example, but of course your primary goal should be to right yourself at your own pace, however you can.
ReplyDeleteThis kind of loss can be wrenching, and it can sting for a long time. My condolences to you & your department.
condolences
ReplyDeleteHow devastating. I am so sorry!
ReplyDeleteAs someone who's been through the same thing, I want to send you my condolences as well, and to say I think you've done everything right. It's a loss personally and professionally, and it's hard to know what to do. Nothing makes a great deal of sense.
ReplyDeleteBut be well, and look to your pals and colleagues for help and understanding.
Cal
This is a lovely tribute. I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteMy condolences.
ReplyDeleteThis is terribly, terribly sad. I'm so sorry.
ReplyDeleteOh no, I'm so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDeleteMy condolences as well. This is lovely and frank and mournful.
ReplyDeleteAs stated above, I am so sorry for your loss.
ReplyDelete