This week was not a good week. It was a week to remember that life is precious, and sometimes far too short. This week, I attended the funeral for a 12 year old--a student of mine, who died in a car accident. Rumour has it she wasn't wearing a seat belt.
There weren't any strangers in Chelsea's life--only people she hadn't talked to yet. She loved to talk--in fact, some of my fondest memories were of me trying to get her to stop telling me all the cool things she had seen/done/noticed, so that I could actually teach a class. Some of her friends told me that, without fail, she got a pink slip every year the first day of school on the bus for talking. She was generous, full of laughter and caring, loving of animals and people, and her loss is a tragedy. She loved skiing, and anything active; she was a lawyer in some ways, and had a way of figuring out how to get someone else to do things for her. She made me laugh often, and exasperated me sometimes. She was one of those people who cared about others, and noticed. My children, who had only gone to school with me a few times over the years, knew who she was when I talked about her.
Life is short! Too short to waste on petty angers, and silly irritations. Take time to tell those around you how much they mean to you--and show it, too, by listening to them.
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