LOA Diaries: a rare business trip

My job with +Edmodo involved scheduling trainings for schools. We had a workshop paid for in Indiana and my director decided I should go so I could see how our training materials really holds up in the field. Teachers don't get many business trips but I'd had my fill in my first career. I agreed as long as I could go east a few days early and spend a bit of time with my friend Marie. 

I was able to use points to upgrade to first class and, had a relaxing 2 hour layover (with a departure gate two doors down from my arrival, confirming my belief that the distance between gates is inversely proportional to the time you have to get from one to the other.) I arrived just before midnight and without even realizing it, Marie and I stayed up talking until 4:00 am. The next two days we visited, laughed, cried, ran errands and talked. Nothing big, but really huge. Seeing Marie was tonic for both of us. She had been there for me when Jim died, and I was blessed to be there with her in her grief.

Two days after arriving I drove from Chicago to Indianapolis. I cried as I drove away, goodbyes taking on a deeper significance since Jim died. Marie and John had described the trip to me, having made it frequently.  First you see the giant cow, then the windmills, then the Subaru plant and not much else after that. What they didn't tell me is the trip would be in Kodachrome. Not only were the fall colors more vibrant the further south I got, but there was the most beautiful sunset across the plains, over my right shoulder as I drove. I kept thinking I should pull over to take a picture, but was hoping to get to my destination before it was too dark, so I pressed on.  

I cried again when I left Illinois as it symbolically ended my visit with Marie. Finally, I cried again when I got to Interstate 80, and the sign points left to Indiana or west to Iowa. My heart wanted to go to Iowa, but I turned towards the east and pressed on.  I was listening to an "oldies" station 80s and 90s and whatever, and they played We are Family, I got all my sisters and me... As I sang along through the tears, I felt blessed by all the sisters I have in my life.  My sisters by birth, yes, but also my sisters of choice, my close friends and cousins who love me like a sibling and are there when I need them. I stopped at a rest stop and texted Linda and Mitzi. Linda encouraged me to be brave and +M Ochoa  gave me courage by teaching me how to use the voice feature on my phone navigation. As so I pressed on.

I never saw the giant cow, but I did see a giant ear of corn (complete with melted butter), a giant fork, atop a tanker truck parked in a field and finally an over sized kitchen table with a red checkered table cloth. I can't be sure, but I think they were related to the giant cow. A little further down the road I passed one tall windmill to the east. I smiled thinking of Altamont and 'how cute' that they thought this was a big deal. I kept on my way and a bit further south I was extremely impressed by acre upon acre of wind farms.  I guess the one lone windmill was just a teaser. It seemed an unlikely coincidence that just at the moment I passed the Subaru factory, there was an ad on the radio for a local Subaru dealer... I wondered if they had their own transmitter that sneaked into whichever station passers by had playing.  

What the Agostas didn't tell me is that it was still about another hour to my hotel after the car factory. I passed through towns and lots of highway construction and thanks to my talking phone, I knew exactly where I was going, or at least how to get there.  I arrived safely, after dark but not too late to get dinner at the hotel and check in with folks and work back home. Still it was another late night, since Indiana is an hour later than Illinois. As I crawled into bed and set my alarm for 0 dark thirty, I cried again, missing my man and not being able to call him to say goodnight, as I did on so many trips. But I pressed on.

The training was well received, and we learned a lot about how to make the workshops even better. It was at a Catholic school that just the day before had hosted the relics from their patron saint, an event attended by thousands of parishioners and pilgrims, including some gypsies. The staff was still buzzing but were eager to learn and willing to try new things. After the training, as I drove south on a side road with seemingly hundreds of roundabouts, I briefly was irritated by the delay compared to a freeway to expressway I could've gotten to about 3 miles east. But then I remembered the moment is now, and I was overwhelmed by the beauty of the leaves. The reds and yellows and oranges were simply breathtaking.  Compared to our drought stricken brown California, the foliage really was a joy to behold and I was grateful to be driving slow enough to be able to take it all in. But still, I did not want to stop and take a picture. 

As I approached the airport there was a huge solar panel array right next to the highway, it was incredible and inspiring - a great use of uninhabitable space.  The training and debrief were done by 3 and I hoped that if I timed it right, I might be able to get an earlier flight home and get to my bed before midnight.  Alas, there was none, and I had about a 3 1/2 hour wait. So I relaxed and enjoyed the now. So at present I am 37,999 ft above the ground, traveling just under 500 mph. And I press on.

The Most Important Lesson They'll Learn All Year

After two months out of the classroom, I returned to my thirty-six fifth graders this past week.  Just eleven months ago my husband, Jim, was diagnosed with stage IV cancer.  He died February 19, 2014 at just 53 years old.  Half of my students were looped, and they knew last spring that 'Mr. McConnell was very ill' and that I was taking off a few days a week through the end of the school year to help him 'get well'.  What they didn't know was that he had cancer, and during the spring he had three surgeries and almost lost his life twice. 

Over the summer and after radiation, his health stabilized and the new school year started with more of a routine.  I was out every third Friday for our chemotherapy appointments.  I was able to get the same sub, Mr. Ma who grew to know them and their routine.  Over Thanksgiving break, my husband Jim's health took a turn for the worse and it was time to explain more about my absences to my students and their parents.

I really did not intend to tell them that day.  The kids were making a joke about all the coughing that was going on in the classroom during this particularly bad flu season, and I just lost it.  I'd been worried all year about bringing germs home to my immune compromised husband, and here these 10 year old were joking about it.  I just started crying in frustration, exhaustion and sadness.  So I told them.  With tears, they listened to my fifth grade version of our story.  

Over Christmas break Jim went back in the hospital with extreme difficulty breathing.  I joked how considerate it was of him to be hospitalized again during my time off school.  He was put on oxygen and we returned home, just in time for me to go back to school.  The students often asked about him, especially after I'd missed a day of class.  Some expressed hopes that he would 'get well soon', though I knew in my heart that was not likely to happen.

In the beginning of February, Jim was diagnosed with two extremely nasty opportunistic infections which required IV antibiotics every four hours. I had to take more time off as he was hospitalized and I learned how to administer at home injections.  The week before our 'ski week' break, I was only at school one day.  True to his form, Jim was admitted to the hospital just two days before the break and he died the Wednesday of ski week, while the kids were on vacation.

Upon their return to school, our principal informed my students of my loss.  They sent cards and a poster, 'Get well soon, we miss you'. Some of their parents attended Jim's memorial service.   +Kristi Schwiebert  is a mentor and friend of mine and her son has been in my class for two years now.  She asked him if he wanted to come to Mr. McConnell's service.  Kristi's son echoed the fears of many of my kids when he said, "No, I don't want to see Mrs. McConnell so sad." His words touched my heart.

My students were typical kids and were not very well behaved for my long term sub. Fortunately, I teach with some amazing colleagues who helped her through it.  After about a month I decided to come back on April 2,  45 days after Jim's death.  There is no right time and it would never be easy. But I had a strategy. I'd come back on a Wednesday, a short day, three days before spring break, to ease me and my kids into it.  I contacted The Center for Living with Dying to get some ideas for activities to help my students process our shared grief.  I contacted our staff and let them know how fragile I was and to not look at me with those sad, I'm sorry eyes before I had to see my kids in the morning.

And so, armed with grief management activities, the love and support of my co-workers and morning meditation, I returned to class.  The kids were peeking in the small door window that morning before class.  I knew they'd wondered, 'would I act the same? Would I look the same? Would I be the same?'  I wanted to be the same fun Mrs. McConnell they knew and loved, but how could I be? I was barely breathing I was so sad.  But then I saw their joy at my return and it was infectious. We had a group hug, all 36 of them! I was surrounded by love and hugs and happiness.  

We did our grief processing with some tears, theirs not mine.  I held it together until the end of the day when I was sharing with them how hard it was for me to come back, but how easy they made it.  Then I cried, just a little.  But I think it was good for them to see my emotion.  By Friday they were up to their old shenanigans and as 10 year olds will, they've moved on.  Inside, I am still incredibly sad, but they've taught me an important lesson.  Life does go on.

The Most Important Lesson I'll Teach All Year is not how to do a prime factorization, how to use figurative language in your writing or the causes of the American Revolution.  Yes, I will teach these things but these are not the things they will remember.  They will remember that their 5th grade teacher's husband died in the middle of the year.  They will remember that I missed almost a quarter of the school year.  But more, they will remember that I came back.  That I came back to them.  They know that my family, my husband, was most important. They knew that I was where I needed to be to care for him, and to grieve him.  But they knew I came back. To teach them. They know that they have value, that they are important to me. They learned about loss and grief and resilience and compassion.  They learned that love is what gets us through.