I know, I know, all of my posts have been about Mrs. Kenney. It's been easier to process this by writing about it and talking about it, so write and talk I will.
Yesterday was the funeral. I knew it would be hard. I also knew I needed to grieve with my SK family. I had the opportunity to do just that, ugly cry and all. My heart goes out to Mrs. Kenney's family-- for as broken-hearted as I feel, I know they are feeling this in an even deeper, more acute way. I thank them for sharing her with the world, and, especially, with SK.
The funeral was harder than I imagined it would be. The minute the choir started singing the Irish blessing, I knew I wouldn't be able to keep any emotion in check. I don't think there was a dry eye in the church.
I know, moving forward, the pain of Mrs. Kenney's loss will fade a bit. I know when my own grandparents died the pain of their deaths faded and the memories and love I shared with them replaced any feelings of sadness that lingered. I know there will be little things, like when I think of calling Mrs. Kenney up to schedule a lunch date or look for her at a SK event, that will remind me of that sadness I feel. I also know that the memories and time shared with her will always be with me.
I also know this-- every time I teach, Mrs. Kenney will be right there with me. I know that every school year, I will renew a promise to myself to be a better teacher for my students. I am putting a picture of her in my classroom to remind me of the teacher, and person, that I want to be: one who is selfless, committed, and passionate.
Thanks for everything, Mrs. Kenney.
“On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world.” -H.D. Thoreau