The holidays are upon us. I usually like them, but I have been in high job hunting and making sure I am ready for taking classes in January mode. And, I was taking a test to add a field to my teaching certificate. One of those long, multiple hour, multiple hundred dollar tests. It's weird, I've taken them before, the GRE, the PRAXIS Spanish test so that I could teach it, my GACE Curriculum test - the one that validated my degree and ensured I got an eight thousand dollar a year raise. This new one though, one that shouldn't be difficult, for some reason was worrying me.
As I drove to the Housing Authority, my phone was exploding. I thought it was about a different, gossipy thing. I like gossip.
"Hilary, um, call me. I don't want to text you this."
"Have you heard?"
"Hilary, call me back."
Finally, "Hilary, he's died. I didn't want you to read it on Facebook or some weird email."
I put my phone down and started preparing to hand out pizza to the Housing Authority kids. Every year, they have little parties all during the week before they get out for Christmas break. I knew he was ill. When they mentioned his name, I almost expected it. I thought I had it together.
"I see trees of green, red roses too...." Tyrone sang. He is one of my students. They were making them practice for February's Black History celebration.
"I see them bloom for me and you...." he continued, low voiced and off key.
"And I think to myself, what a wonderful world..."
And then I cried. And cried. And I couldn't stop.
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