Letters To Nana

      I remember my first year of teaching. To say that I didn't have a clue was the understatement of the century. Boy did I have a lot to learn. No problem, I had 125 middle schoolers that knew it all and had no qualms about showing me the ropes! It was an interesting transition for a woman that did not have an education degree and talked her way out of public speaking class in college. How ironic was that? There I stood in front of 24 students with nothing but my quick wit and a strange sense of humor to get me through. My boss had faith in me though and when it got tough that first year, his faith kept me going.

      Mr. West interviewed me for the two jobs I was qualified to teach: art and spanish. I will never forget that interview. At the end of it he asked me which job I wanted. Now I was desperate for work so I naturally told him I would do whatever he needed me to. He said "That's now what I asked you. Where is your heart? Is it in the art room or the spanish room?" I didn't hesitate. "The art room" I said. "Then art is what I will hire you to teach." His advice was simple. "If you love these kids, you will be good at what you do. If you don't, then you'll know it's not for you." So I took the art job thinking it would only be for a year or so until I could find another opportunity in the design field. That was eleven years ago. Funny how life works out. I see Mr. West from time to time and he always gives me a hug and asks "You still lovin' that job I gave you?" My reply is always the same. "Yes Sir. Best job I ever had."

      Now your first year teaching you have very few sick days and no leave accumulated. If you have young kids which I did at the time you use what little time you do have for when the kids get sick. So at the end of my first year, I had no time left, no days that I could take off. That was a problem because at the end of that school year my grandfather was dying.

      Pop had heart issues and wasn't expected to live very long. I was very close to my grandfather and I simply had to go home. I went into Mr. West's office and told him my dilemma. I needed to go but I had no time. Fortunately it was near the end of the school year and it would only be work days that I would be missing but still I was nervous asking for time off as the new hire. Mr. West asked me about my grandfather and patiently listened to my story. He told me what I had heard him say to other colleagues throughout the year, "Family comes first, go home." I loved him for that. I would have eagerly walked through fire for that man!

      Because of Mr. West, I got to spend two weeks or so with my Pop before he passed. Mr. West had given me a wonderful gift. He allowed me the opportunity to be with my grandfather and tell him everything that was on my heart. When Pop passed I had such peace. There was nothing undone. Nothing unsaid. No regrets. I promised myself that I would make sure that I had that same opportunity with all my loved ones. I started writing my grandmother letters. It allowed me the chance to stay connected to her even though we lived miles apart. I wrote every week for awhile and then as it always does, life got in the way. Every week became every two weeks then every month, then hardly at all. I let life's problems distract me from what really mattered.

Nana's Letters

      Nana's letters are in a box on my dresser. I read them when I'm having a bad day. I love them because they are her words, written by her distinctive hand and they make me feel like I am a part of her daily life. In the beginning her letters expressed her sadness over Pop's passing. She was lost at first, but the letters began to slowly regain their happy tone over time. Oh there were plenty of weeks we went down memory lane.  I love the stories about her and Pop and their lives together. Nana is in her late eighties now and I don't know how much time I have left to talk to her or to relive her stories. For that matter, we don't really know how much time we have left with anyone, do we? All I know is that I am blessed to have two wonderful Nana's that are still here with me and I simply cannot take that for granted any longer. So this week's pay it forward is about relaunching the letter writing campaign. Each week I will write a letter to Nana Browning (we may be the only two people alive that still write letters) or make a phone call to my other Nana, Nan Naylor (she's not much on writing.) Neither of these ladies were ever too busy for me when I was growing up, so I think I can turn off the TV for an hour or so a week and write or call them. They deserve to be a priority again. "Family comes first." Truer words were never spoken. Maybe it's time I started living Mr. West's motto again. It would be a shame to let such wise words go to waste.  :)

Laurie