I spent my Saturday slowly and purposefully getting ready to go to the Easter Vigil Mass. It's impossible to not think about the events of that day two years earlier and how I felt leading up to my baptism and entrance into the Catholic church. All day long it was if time had stopped and I was left in awe of God. Mainly in awe of His goodness, the people He has brought into my life and how He continues to woo me to draw me closer to Him. I felt like the luckiest girl on the planet.
Sadly this post is not about the Vigil. An hour before the Vigil I found out Sam had died. We think he took his own life. I went to mass, then went and got ice cream with a friend I had promised earlier, and then found myself just sitting in my car. I was holding my rosary, trying to pray, but thinking about how I just wanted to bop Sam in the head. Then hug him.
Sam wasn't even my own student. More like an adopted student because of how often I saw him at FFA events, working closely with his FFA chapter, and serving as district advisor when he was a district officer with three of my kids. Sam was that Winfield kid that would always talk to me, always have some joke or story, or weird noise to tell/show me. He was lighthearted and loved FFA. He truly appreciated how his ag teacher had helped turn his life around when he was a wee lil 8th grader and turned him from a student that got in trouble with all his teachers to one that was respectful and knowledgeable about ag. Heck he even had a speech with this story in it that I must have heard a hundred times! He would randomly bust out a set of reasons, most of the time not even about livestock. I can remember how he debated in par law. He didn't get mad at me when I ordered his district officer shirt with his last name misspelled. He just wore it anyway. He was a handful to get focused on workshop stuff but looked awesome in a Dr. Seuss hat. He played guitar. He was there at the dreaded Casey's gas station incident that I am not allowed to talk about. I could talk to Sam about God. Sam was a great friend to my kids. I am blessed to know Sam.
He was troubled the past year or so but was trying to earn trust back. He was working on mending relationships. The last time I met up with Sam was in December when he and I went to get ice cream. He was humbled and he was hopeful. We parted with a hug. I have text him a few times since. But when I found out the news of his death, it had been over two months since I had heard from him.
Now I know it's not really fair to think like that. It not's fair to think that things would be different if I would have just texted him to see how his day was going. In fact, I do that with pretty much everyone I know. I think about them, wonder how they are, what new thing they might be up to, and then fail to follow up with a simple text.
Sam's death makes me think about kids I see everyday. How I want to do so much for them but it seems like it is never enough.
My kids fight battles that are so far over my head. One of my kids got into a fight with his Dad, screaming inches from his face, and ended up getting kicked out of the house. Another kid doesn't have a key to her own house because of her stepfather. She has to sneak around to go to church. She played me a Matthew West song the other day. I have a kid that deals with an alcoholic father. I have a kid that doesn't have a mother that is very present at all and is raised by her Dad. And whenever she tells me about her Dad's girlfriend, I wish I could have a sit down with the lady and tell her how special this kid is. I want to tell her that she better treat her right because I love her. Or the kid that would lose his top with me and sometimes me with him. We'd talk later when he was settled down and he was so broken it hurt me. I didn't know what to do. Yet another kid was sleeping in class and when I talked to him, he told me he wasn't allowed to sleep the past week because he had to help his family move and they could only do it at night. Or the young lady that often wants to stay in my room over lunch because she doesn't have money. Countless kids take care of their brother and sisters while their parents go out to party. Countless kids have their paychecks taken my parents. For what? Cigarettes and fines. Countless kids are getting high and getting drunk and having sex.
Some of these stories are from kids I know very well but then there are some that I barely know. They talk so freely and openly to me. They are crying out for help even as they are being flaky, disrespectful, angry or frustrating to me. They don't know how to deal with these situations any better than I do.
Sometimes I give up. I get fed up. I wash my hands clean of the kids.
A friend sent me this when I found out about Sam:
"i haven't been at this very long but the bond that is built between us and them is stronger than any of us ever really realizes. i believe that's why i get so upset with them and their parents when they don't realize what we'd do for them. it's one of those things that in all reality i would like to just run from it to keep from getting hurt but i can't...i'm too stubborn to let myself do that"
It takes courage to be a teacher and to still put your neck out there. We do get hurt... a lot. We give so much. Sometimes you pour everything you are, what seems like your whole life, into these kids just to get hurt. I pray that God continues to give me the grace and strength I need to help keep giving, and for the courage to help them with their battles.
Back to the Vigil. It was extremely holy, moving and beautiful. God truly is so good. Also, one of my confirmation boys and his Dad ended up sitting by me. This boy and I tend to butt heads and I think he is a little turd most of the time. However, during the sign of peace I reached out my hand and told him, "peace be with you." He did that same. I am sure that has been the nicest thing we have said to each other. It clicked. And I truly want that for him. I want all my kids to know that peace.
Lastly, I leave you with a bit of the Colossians reading from Easter Sunday. Because it gives me hope.
"Seek what is above, where Christ is seated at the right hand of God. Think of what is above, not of what is on earth."
May Sam's soul rest in peace!
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