This week as I was taking down my classroom, I saw this picture- hanging on the wall by my computer.
It is one of my favorite pictures of me and my dad- it was taken the day I started my mission. I was saying goodbye to my family for a year and a half. Of course we were sad because we knew we would miss each other like crazy, but more than anything it was a happy day. I remember hearing my parents promise to write faithfully, feeling so excited for my new journey, and more than anything knowing how terribly proud my parents were of me for making this decision. And after all, is there anything as great as making your parents proud?
When I look at that picture, I see that day and I feel those emotions- that happiness, that excitement, that complete love. For the longest time after my dad died, though, I couldn't look at pictures of him and feel happiness. I felt sorrow, anger, and injustice. It took me so long to accept that he had to have been taken so early and so unexpectedly from this life.
I remembered how robbed I felt when my dad was taken. Weeks after my dad's death, an old boyfriend told me that I was seeing myself as a victim. I remember thinking, "Well no duh! I am!" I felt myself a complete and utter victim, someone who had wrong done to them, who had no way of helping themselves. I felt so powerless and even mad at God for taking my dad. I remember in those months after my dad's death thinking that the Lord had taken away from me one of the absolute greatest parts of my life and nothing would even be able to make that up.
It was interesting to look at this picture and be reminded of all of those complex emotions as I sat in my classroom. I had just said goodbye to my students whom I had grown to love tremendously. They had hugged me and taken pictures with me and even given me packs of diet coke. I had surprised even myself as I wept with them when I read them this goodbye letter. In these last days at Copper Hills I have felt so much love and purpose. I have been overwhelming grateful for my time there- for the love I have felt from the student, for my first "big girl" job, for the total trust those teenagers have in me.
My dad never met in this life "Teacher Bonnie". When he died I was just finishing my undergraduate courses. He passed away in November of 2009. I started my student teaching that January, and became a full time teacher at Copper Hills that next September. All of my teaching experiences, memories, and treasures have come to me after my dad's death. The laughs I've had with my students, the pranks we've played on each other, the cramming for exams... all of this wonderful purpose in my life has emerged since my dad left.
I guess I just couldn't help but think how good God is. I felt so robbed when my dad died, but it only took one minute of me sitting there surrounded by my books and desks and notes from students to realize that God repays. I felt like he had taken one of the greatest things from me that November, but it is interesting that since then he has given me another "greatest thing"- which is teaching. All these experiences and love and terrific students He gave me after He took my dad.
I can't help but be overwhelmed when I think of it all. He takes, but He gives. I think about the giant hole my dad left in my heart. It will never be filled completely, but it's almost like God filled a different part of my heart- a part I didn't know even needed filling. He filled it with a job that gives my fulfillment and happiness and purpose. He filled it with a husband who puts glowsticks around the bed so it looks like we are sleeping in the future. He filled it with a mom and siblings that make great efforts to spend time as a family. I wonder if when my dad died three years ago, if I could have been able to see all the wonderful things down the road, if I would have mourned so deeply. God had so much greatness in store for me, but I could only focus on what was being taken from me.
So I guess this would be a thank you to my students and Copper Hills for being the next "great thing" that came in to my life, and in its own weird way, for helping me to heal after losing my dad. It's true that when one door closes, another opens, but when the door that closes is as big as losing your dad, it takes awhile to understand the enormity and greatness of the door that is opening. That would be you, my students. I love you and thank you a million times for letting me be your teacher.
It is one of my favorite pictures of me and my dad- it was taken the day I started my mission. I was saying goodbye to my family for a year and a half. Of course we were sad because we knew we would miss each other like crazy, but more than anything it was a happy day. I remember hearing my parents promise to write faithfully, feeling so excited for my new journey, and more than anything knowing how terribly proud my parents were of me for making this decision. And after all, is there anything as great as making your parents proud?
When I look at that picture, I see that day and I feel those emotions- that happiness, that excitement, that complete love. For the longest time after my dad died, though, I couldn't look at pictures of him and feel happiness. I felt sorrow, anger, and injustice. It took me so long to accept that he had to have been taken so early and so unexpectedly from this life.
I remembered how robbed I felt when my dad was taken. Weeks after my dad's death, an old boyfriend told me that I was seeing myself as a victim. I remember thinking, "Well no duh! I am!" I felt myself a complete and utter victim, someone who had wrong done to them, who had no way of helping themselves. I felt so powerless and even mad at God for taking my dad. I remember in those months after my dad's death thinking that the Lord had taken away from me one of the absolute greatest parts of my life and nothing would even be able to make that up.
It was interesting to look at this picture and be reminded of all of those complex emotions as I sat in my classroom. I had just said goodbye to my students whom I had grown to love tremendously. They had hugged me and taken pictures with me and even given me packs of diet coke. I had surprised even myself as I wept with them when I read them this goodbye letter. In these last days at Copper Hills I have felt so much love and purpose. I have been overwhelming grateful for my time there- for the love I have felt from the student, for my first "big girl" job, for the total trust those teenagers have in me.
My dad never met in this life "Teacher Bonnie". When he died I was just finishing my undergraduate courses. He passed away in November of 2009. I started my student teaching that January, and became a full time teacher at Copper Hills that next September. All of my teaching experiences, memories, and treasures have come to me after my dad's death. The laughs I've had with my students, the pranks we've played on each other, the cramming for exams... all of this wonderful purpose in my life has emerged since my dad left.
I guess I just couldn't help but think how good God is. I felt so robbed when my dad died, but it only took one minute of me sitting there surrounded by my books and desks and notes from students to realize that God repays. I felt like he had taken one of the greatest things from me that November, but it is interesting that since then he has given me another "greatest thing"- which is teaching. All these experiences and love and terrific students He gave me after He took my dad.
I can't help but be overwhelmed when I think of it all. He takes, but He gives. I think about the giant hole my dad left in my heart. It will never be filled completely, but it's almost like God filled a different part of my heart- a part I didn't know even needed filling. He filled it with a job that gives my fulfillment and happiness and purpose. He filled it with a husband who puts glowsticks around the bed so it looks like we are sleeping in the future. He filled it with a mom and siblings that make great efforts to spend time as a family. I wonder if when my dad died three years ago, if I could have been able to see all the wonderful things down the road, if I would have mourned so deeply. God had so much greatness in store for me, but I could only focus on what was being taken from me.
So I guess this would be a thank you to my students and Copper Hills for being the next "great thing" that came in to my life, and in its own weird way, for helping me to heal after losing my dad. It's true that when one door closes, another opens, but when the door that closes is as big as losing your dad, it takes awhile to understand the enormity and greatness of the door that is opening. That would be you, my students. I love you and thank you a million times for letting me be your teacher.
