Being an English Teacher Prepares You for Life

     Although I proudly serve as a counselor now, it was not too long ago (at least I like to think so) that I was in front of a classroom teaching resource English.  I believe that that to this day has to be my favorite subject.  In high school, I had an amazing English teacher Sister Bernadette.  I will never forget her.  She must have been 1,000 years old if a day (no I am serious).  She was very frail and had more wrinkles than my pug Buddy.  She was scary at first, but once you got to know her she captivated your heart.  That was when I decided that I wanted to teach English.  One day she told me that writing was the greatest gift she could give me.  And, she was one of the first to tell me that I had a real gift for the written word.  Over the years I let that go by the wayside.  Only to find it again as an adult.  I have a half-written great American novel, several short stories, and numerous poems that I have scribbled down over the years.  Yes, most are on regular "college-rule" notebook paper.  Sister Bernadette told us that life was a great adventure and if you looked around you would see all sorts of literary techniques playing out right before your eyes. 

Now that leads me to where this blog is going.  Foreshadowing can be seen in literature, it can be seen in movies and in life.  Today was icky here.  I had spent time this morning making sure my hair was perfect.  Okay, I know but for me it was perfect.  I took one step out side and I could actually hear my hair frizz.  Fisssss, fisss.  I looked in the mirror- oh well, not going to strut my stuff on the cat walk today, so off to work I go.  I had trouble concentrating knowing that this was "the afternoon"  when we met with the oncologist from MD Anderson.  Although the day was not a total wash.  I did get an awesome new purse and sunglasses.  It wasn't exactly great.  There was just an overwhelming feeling of dread hanging over me. I should have recognized the foreshadowing.

I think both Patrick and I expected something different.  We wanted the doctor to come in and say, "I studied your case carefully and here is what we are going to do.  We start tomorrow and you will get well."  Unfortunately that is not what we got.  We were informed that Mantle cell in not curable and it can return.  He said there were many options and several clinical trial.  Great, my husband the lab rat.  "Human experimentation and laboratory studies" were how the doctor put it.  I felt like I had been hit in the stomach.  Don't cry was all I kept telling myself.  You have to be strong.  Well, to be honest I have never been an exceptionally good Scarlett O'Hara so I felt the tears roll down my cheek in a silent cry.  I wanted to grab that doctor and say look this is a man who I care deeply for and you aren't helping us.  I need some kind of straw to grasp.  All I kept thinking was why???  Why now, We have weathered some horrible storms from the death of a child and both sets of our parents, to marital woes, to empty nest.  It was supposed to be our time now.  Why can't I have this?  But, there are no answers.  We can't beat our self up for the things we might not ever be able to do.  Nor, can we fill our lives with regret for the things we never did. All we can do is live each day to it's fullest.  Trust in the Lord and pray for the best.  It's like Sister Bernadette told me once,  "Being an English teacher prepares you for life you open yourself up to all possibilities."  Yes, it does.  Life is an adventure that we may never know the ending because we don't write it.  That is for the reader to decide.