Back to school

Dear Mom,

Summer has finally come to an end, thank goodness. While I enjoyed my time with Logan, this summer just needs to be over. I go back to work on Monday, and the students return a week later. This time last year I had just been told, the weekend before "teacher week," that I would have to move my classroom two doors down. I was seven months pregnant and Adam was working the Brickyard 400 all weekend, as it's always the last weekend of July. Luckily you stepped in and offered to help. We were able to move my entire classroom in just a few hours. But what a pain in the ass... You didn't want me climbing up on things, so you helped me hang bulletin boards, crawl back behind book shelves and cubbies to retrieve things, and made me sit down every few minutes to have a drink of water. Afterwards we went and had lunch at Wendy's.

Today I am going into my classroom, which has been moved yet again. I knew at the end of the year I would be moving, but am only just now, the weekend before "teacher week," able to get in and work on it. This time around movers were hired to help bring the larger items upstairs. But I can only imagine that you would have offered, in a heartbeat, to either watch Logan or come along with me to help put everything in order. I definitely took those times for granted, and took you always being there for granted, too. I find myself wanting to say, "Oh, I'll just call my mom to help!" and then realizing that is no longer an option. Even yesterday, after I drastically changed my hair, I wanted to call and let you know. I knew you'd hate it (it's dark) but you'd still be the first one I would've called.

Even though I don't have you here anymore, I do have those memories of when you were there for me. I feel fortunate that I was able to live so close (just minutes down the road). I feel fortunate that you were so loved by your co-workers that they've offered to help supply my class with pencils and paper (for the fourth year in a row). I feel fortunate that I'm able to say we had the perfect "last day" together before you passed. None of this makes losing you any easier, but it does lessen the pain and regrets I might've had, had we not made each other a priority and been there for one another. I think that's what I can feel good about right now...