10:07pm: This feels too familiar...
Lydia Becker first entered my life 14 years ago. She was Christopher's Kindergarten teacher.
The year went on and she made quite an impact on Chris. And on my parents. As the year drew to a close my mom mentioned to her that I was still too young for kindergarten, but didn't want to return to the Lutheran School that I had been going to. Lydia suggested that we look at a private preschool called Lindgren. And thus she changed my life.
Lindgren is a preschool and summer camp for kids ages 3-9. Her husband, Bob, worked the camp, and had for a long time. Her daughter, Nikahya, had gone there for camp, too. So my parents looked into it and absolutely fell in love with this hippie-camp, as we like to call it. And so I spent a year of my life playing in mud and making crafts.
The next time Lydia, well, Ms. Becker as I called her then, came into my life was just the next year. As I was now old enough to go to kindergarten, I was promptly pulled out of Lindgren and sent to the same school that Chris had gone to. I expected to get my friend's mother as a teacher. Benno was his name. I don't remember hers. I had even visited her class on the silly day that they ship you off to the older school so that you can get a feel for it. So imagine my surprise when, a few weeks before school started, I (well, my mom anyway) go a letter saying that I was to have Lydia Becker as a teacher.
My mother and I both thought it odd that Chris and I were to have the same teacher. Especially one that we knew so well. In later years she confided in me: "Every year we were allowed to pick one student for our class. Only one. We would pick based on that visiting day. And I fought to get you."
Over the next few years our families grew closer and closer. Chris and I were still both going to Lindgren for camp. Dad was working there. Nikahya was working there. Nikahya is the only babysitter Chris and I ever had...other than grandma. They were like family to us.
So it was no surprise when Lydia (because one I was out of her class I started to call her Lydia) called my dad one day in my second grade year. She had gotten an offer to started a charter school in Hoboken, NJ. And she wanted dad's help. The Elysian Charter School (ECS) was founded in the fall of my third grade year. You may argue with me, saying that it has been around for more than 10 years, but I remember. That first year the school was K-2. They were going to add another year, every year, until they finally reached the 8th grade. I remember because I was always a year too old to go. And it always pissed me off.
So for the next five or six years I would spend every day off of school running around Elysian. Every day I was sick, I would spend napping in Lydia's office. Mama didn't like leaving me home when I was sick, and Lydia had a couch in her office. She never minded the little sicky.
The years went by and she became more and more like an aunt. She lived in my town, just a few miles from me. I would sometimes go visit after school. And then I started at Hudson, and I was even closer. Leaving rehearsal late at night, I would make my way over to ECS. I'd buzz in and she'd answer. She'd always send down the elevator for me. She even drove me home more than a few times.
Time went on and I grew more independent. Eventually a group of parents at ECS who wanted the school to be run differently than Lydia (illegally) threw Lydia out of office. (Lydia had planned a school that was for everyone. No one paid to go. You applied and then got picked by lottery. Once you were in the school, there was no way you were leaving, unless you wanted to. The classes catered to the students. If they were particularly interested in a certain field, they would study it. Needless to say, I was always jealous of the students. I believe I even once asked Lydia if she could create and extra grade just for me. However, this system allowed some "problem children" and some "slow learners" to stay in the school. But then there were those parents who believed the classes should be more structured. They wanted the "weaker children" to not be allowed back. They wanted it to be more like The Hudson School. So they got rid of Lydia).
Then Lydia's family fell on some hard times. Bob injured his back and had to have surgery. Nikahya, finishing grad school, moved closer to home to be near her parents. And then, a little over a year ago, Lydia was diagnosed with Cancer. And the doctors said it didn't look good.
Walking into the EAS office in Marshak today, I knew something was wrong by the look on dad's face. He told me to sit down, so I sat. He told me Lydia died last week, so I started to cry. Apparently she died last Monday, but her family didn't want to make a big deal about it, so they didn't tell anyone. That was almost two hours ago. I'm still crying now, and I've developed a splititng head ache. I can breathe though. There was a while there where I really had to think about taking a breath.
Why Lydia? Why now? Why her? There are hundreds, and thousands, and millions of bad people in the world...why did it have to be someone so loving? So caring? So compassionate? I've known Lydia for 14 or 15 years, and I don't think I've ever met anyone more amazing. I can't recall a single instance of her raising her voice. Oh, I've seen her mad. I've seen her disappointed. I've seen her discipline some of the worst kids I've ever met. But she never once lost her temper.
So this is my goodbye to Lydia Becker. You were a great mother, a great teacher, a great mentor, and a great friend. And I know that you can read these words as I write them because, if there is a Heaven, you are one person who is surly on the guest list.
Current Mood: devistated.
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tired
distressed
cold
frustrated
amused