Most of the time it seems that we, as a whole, are able to experience life in the way we prefer...in the living. Normal everyday life revolves around the daily give and take of routine, and most of the time, people don't make it through a day without hearing about or participating in a circumstance of joy, either for themselves or for those around them. We live for these moments, and it makes everyday life perfect.

And if we're lucky, when the time comes to say goodbye to those we love, we hope it's only because they've lived a long and fulfilling life. And though it's sad to say goodbye, it seems more of a natural progression, the next normal step in the process of life.

But for the city in which I live, we're grieving. We're saying goodbye to a man who didn't fit into that normal progression. 45 years and 1 day isn't normal by any standard, and because this particular person was so well loved by many, his early departure felt just so...unnatural.

The news of his death saturated social media and the school where I teach. I've taught five of his children with the youngest yet to be in elementary school. Such an outpouring of love drenched his family members in so many different forms, that it was overwhelming to witness.

While running errands on Saturday I realized that I was running a bit late if I were to make it in time for the 5:00 Mass, the one I attend. I put myself into high gear and hustled to make sure I wouldn't be late. After the emotional week I had experienced, I wasn't about to miss Mass...I needed God. I needed to hear my priest speak once again how God works. I know the answers, and I've heard them many times before, but I needed to hear it again. I had been the 'adult' all week, the one with the answers for the little people who didn't understand, but it was my turn to be the child, to be the one with questions who was looking for answers.

My pastor spoke to a hungry parish. He spoke to the weeping and the devastated. He was calm and stoic even though he knew that many were wondering how this continues to happen. In a world of modern medicine, how can this still happen? And more importantly, why does God let this happen.

His words were ones that I had heard before, but needed again. God takes us from despair to hope...from death to life. If we believe...really believe...then we know without a doubt that our loved ones, no matter how untimely their death, live on with God. I have to find consolation in that...that my loved ones live on. He went on to discuss the reading, the one about Lazarus' death, and our ability to classify ourselves into two types of grievers; like those of Lazarus' sisters, Mary and Martha. They both grieved for their brother, yet in very different ways. Martha left her house and met Jesus on the road, questioning him of his delay, visibly upset with Him, while Mary remained at home and wept. When I heard this, it occurred to me that there is probably both Martha and Mary in all of us...like necessary stages of grief. When death comes too early, we're upset, we're angry, and we lash out, often times at God! And other times, we weep in the confinement of our own homes...alone. My pastor was still talking while I was thinking about this man and those grieving for him, but I did catch his final message. Jesus said to Martha and Mary, "Whoever believes in me, Jesus Christ, receives spiritual life that even physical death can never take away."

It's been tough to imagine and think about this man's family, but has my silver learned? Does it help knowing what Jesus said? Some. Does it still hurt? Yes. Will his family continue to hurt, cry out and crave him? Yes. But has their loved one received spiritual life that even his physical death can never take away? Yes. He was a spiritual man. He loved God, brought his children to God and taught them to believe. So while we pick up the slack and play the role of both Mary and Martha, we'll continue to surround his family with love and support, while praying for the gift of peace.

I've mentioned before that I work in a school. It's an incredible place, and for so many reasons. But now that spring is right around the corner, I'm getting my panic on. As a teacher, I've been 'in a relationship,' if you will, with these little people for seven months, but we're about to enter the last phase of that relationship...the fourth quarter. And the fourth quarter might as well be summer vacation because time moves so quickly. I've often thought, and told the parents, that the children seem to learn the most after their Easter vacation. I don't know why that happens because we've all been together since the beginning and I'm not doing anything differently...or am I? Do I feel the end coming? Am I holding on tighter? Or am I simply loving them more because we've spent an appropriate amount of time together...enough time to build a solid relationship.

My feelings are the same every spring...it's panic before saying goodbye. I want them to know so much before I let them go. It really is a 'mothering' type of feeling. Have I taught them enough to let them go to the next grade? I know I have, but I need more time...more time with them before saying goodbye. And it certainly isn't just about the three R's. Children learn so much more in school than just the academics. The intellect always seems to come, but it's all the other stuff that's equally important, or maybe more...like how to get along and survive in this world.

I teach thirty specific phonics skills throughout the school year, but I teach one particular survival skill ALL YEAR LONG in the classroom and during recess...how to get along. Some of the children have this skill down pat by the beginning of first grade, and others are still working on it.

I panic and wonder if they know how I'm feeling. I want to say so much to them...things like, "Do you know that you have somehow made me a better person by experiencing you, helping you, loving you, impacting you, bringing you closer to God? Will you remember me? Did I make a difference? You were a part of my life. You were 'given' to me. You were my charge. I was in charge....or were you? We've laughed together while wearing silly costumes in the fall, we've given thanks together while wearing handmade headbands and sharing a feast, we've shopped together for our loved ones at the bazaar, and acted out the birth of Christ. We've expressed our love for each other with the exchange of conversation hearts, shared our snow day escapades when we should have been reading, and wore pink and sung silly 'pig songs' together. We've traveled and grown so much together through the school year, and I hope it feels the same to you that it does to me...that we've 'loved' our way through the school year."

The teachers had the opportunity to attend a faculty retreat yesterday with the most unbelievable speaker. Fr. Dan Leary from St. Andrew's Parish led us through the day with talks on...love. How appropriate. It was wonderful, and how do I rate it? By quoting myself again, "It was so good, I cried myself all the way through." He said so many incredible things to us and I tried remembering them, but the one thing that sticks out in my mind is this. He asked us, "Do you know why parents send their children to Catholic school?...to be loved." So true. Our job is to teach them, but that's just the tip of the iceberg. The best part, for sure is...to love them. The learning will come if they feel loved. Are some harder to love than others? Yes. But he said this, too, "They're only repeating history...living out their parents' history, perhaps, who are perhaps living out their parents' history. We have the opportunity, as teachers, to break the pattern...with love." Pretty powerful. He said it happened like that with him. He was the youngest of six...six rambunctious children from an alcoholic home. He credits one nun for making the difference in his life...because she loved him...he knew it and he could feel it! Powerful thing, love is.

The link below is to a story that 'gets me' every time. Just as what Fr. Dan said to me yesterday, these little people have been put in my charge. I don't know 'their story' or what's going on in their lives...but I can make a difference...with love. I wish I could say the following story is true, but it's not. It's just a very well told story that has a big impact.

The Story of Teddy Stoddard

The past ten years have been very good to me because of my chance to teach little people and to work with a beautiful team. It isn't just luck that made this happen...but part of God's plan for me. The stories and opportunities I've experienced have been full of joy, and they've impacted me so very much. I've grown with them...become silver with them, and realized for the umpteenth time that...love is a powerful thing.

The Silver Side of Life