One of the best parts of elementary school was enjoying a crush on my teacher. In fifth and sixth grade, I was fortunate to be assigned to the same dynamo of a woman.
Ms. S was vivacious, creative, engaging, and funny - it was puppy love. She had us teach one another contemporary songs to get comfortable with public speaking.
Another time she handed us each a single page with 30 instructions, the first being, "Read everything before doing anything." The middle 28 instructions were variations of doing jumping jacks, hopping on one leg, saying "I am" loudly several times to show that we were following directions. The final instruction read, "Now that you have read everything before doing anything, sit at your desk with your hands folded and smile at your teacher." I recall giving a similar test to my own kids because the lesson made such an impression on me.
When my family relocated from west LA to central California for my father's work during the sixth grade, I wrote letters to my class for several months after the move. Although I adapted to life in a new place relatively quickly, I never forgot the classmates of the teacher.
I remained in touch with a couple of those classmates - one I'd known since preschool, and the other is a story to be saved for another time. but somehow, Ms. S and I lost contact.
Fast forward to 2019, when the latter classmate got married. I ended up at a table with a third member of that memorable sixth grade class. We reminisced about our teacher and classmates, and this acquaintance mentioned that he remained in contact with her vi facebook.
I am not on social media, and despite the missed opportunities such as this one to find people from my past, I have no intention of altering my deliberate online absence. With a minimum of back and forth, I had procured the teacher's email through this connection.
Her first email reply to me contained scans of old photos and letters I'd sent her from so many years ago - she'd kept every one! A tiny part of 11 year old me felt my affections had been reciprocated by that first teacher crush.
A few months later, we found a time to connect by phone, and we spoke for an hour. It was delightful hearing about her active life in retirement. She works out with a trainer three times a week and tops it off with a workout class once a week. Biggest tragedy of being 77 years old: She plans to give up water skiing because of reduced grip strength. That loss is offset by the fact that once she turns 80, she'll get free lift tickets at Mammoth.
I'd planned to invite her to lunch, but once my father's health deteriorated, those plans were put on hold.
Helping my mom adapt to life without my dad; digging out from my own sense of loss; being present for my wife and kids - these tasks took all my available bandwidth until recently.
When that turning point came, I reached out once more to Ms. S and asked her to save a Sunday afternoon for me. I reached out to my friends, and they put out a call to other former classmates on facebook.
That date was last weekend. 5 other former students joined me in thanking this wonderful teacher we'd shared for her influence on our lives.
We shared all that was happening in our lives - a cardiac arrest, a lost business during COVID, a special needs child, a divorce, becoming a widower.
I'm still on a high from the time we spent reconnecting.