In Search of Lost Time: Adieu Mlle. Becker

Hello everyone...I find myself blogging from the train again, only this time it's aboard Amtrak's NE Regional 186 en route to Baltimore. I've got a visit to the B&O Railroad Museum on the schedule and a  visit with my sister as well.

I find that being aboard a train is a good time to think about where I've been and where I'm going, and I wanted to take a moment to reflect on the life of a person who had a tremendously positive impact on me. Her name was Sheila Becker Gailius, but I never called her by her first name. She was Ms. Becker to me, and she was my high school French teacher for French-AP my senior year. 

My high school didn't want me to take French-AP at all, which is surprising because they pushed me harder academically than pretty much any other institution I've attended. They looked at my French record and saw that I was only a B student, and that I didn't challenge myself to take French IV Honors during my junior year. That was one of the first times in my life that I remember being seriously wicked pissed.  My music teacher, who saw me speaking French non-stop on a band trip to Montreal doing interpreting for classmates, started the dialog to get me enrolled. 

Once the modern languages department finally relented, Mlle. Becker could have killed that whole idea. But she didn't. I was afraid what she would think of me because I wasn't as academically skilled, or so it seemed on paper, as the other students. But she never mentioned it if she had any reservations about my ability. Once I got A's on my first two assignments, there was no looking back for any of us. 

Boy was I glad I fought for this. Mlle. Becker was one of the best teachers I have seen or experienced in any discpline. Her class was total immersion French...she didn't speak English and scolded us when we did. She was challenging while being understanding. Her classes were interesting and focused on modern French culture and language, and to this day my love of French rock music comes from her. 

When I got a French classroom of my own, I modeled her style and her passion for the language and culture. I tried to put myself in her shoes, and considering some of my classmates I often wondered how she did it. But she truly excelled. Add to all of this that she was such a giving person and you had the "perfect storm" in any classroom. 

After I graduated in 1989, she continued teaching. I got to see her once on a visit back to BC High after that, but that was still about 20 years ago now. I had no idea it was going to be my last visit to her classroom. 

Ms. Becker--now Ms. Sheila Becker Gailius--passed away less than a week ago after a long, drawn out battle with cancer. She had such an amazing impact on me as a person and as a French student that I just couldn't say nothing. She meant so much to me and to so many others. 

I ask the blessings of the Lord and Lady for all those who mourn her passing. I can only thank the Divine for the amazing person she was, and feel fortunate that she took the time to share her passion for French with me and so many others. She will not be forgotten. 

Adieu Mademoiselle Becker. Tu seras toujours dans mon coeur. 

Saying Goodbye to Empress Josephine

My Josephine passed away Saturday morning. I came out of my room to find her in her usual spot, but she had already gone.

Josephine was my first cat. I never had pets growing up, and when Jen and I got married I became a “cat daddy” to Jen’s cat, Madison, who lived for 19 years.

About a year after we got married, I started wanting a cat of my own. That cat was Josephine. She was my Valentine’s Day present from Jen in 1997. I named her Josephine because in my mind, she was an empress. We got her through the Grateful Paws Rescue in Kent Island, MD.

We found out later that Josephine was born a Scorpio cat; she came into the world on November 2, 1996. She became my familiar.

Through all of the changes—Jen and I have made 10 moves in our 17 years of marriage—Josephine was a constant, faithful companion. She adjusted well and change never bothered her.

She was never mean to people or other cats, and as time went on she became more and more calm and outgoing. She also had a great singing voice…at night she would play with her toys and just sing her little heart out.

She also enjoyed magickal work. Josephine enjoyed “helping” me do tarot readings and was constantly watching what was going on in the house. 

We called her “The Cat Who Watches”, and we realized eventually that the laser pointer was no fun for her because she was always looking right at the person holding it, as if to say, “I’m not stupid…I know where that light is coming from, and I won’t be able to catch it, either!” She was way too smart for us to pull anything over on her more than once.

I’m totally still in shock. Josephine was getting older and had some kidney and thyroid problems, but they were treatable and we gave her the best care we could. I wasn’t ready for her to leave—I thought we still had a few months left, or maybe a year—but it was time for Jojo.

Josephine helped me become more compassionate. I never had much to do with animals before I married Jen, but I learned so much from her. She enjoyed the simple things in life, and she tried so hard just to be sweet and nice, even with twice daily medication and subcutaneous fluids 3-4 times a week. I wish more people were placid like her.

I’m still not ready for this…I’m going to miss her so much.

I love you, Josephine, my little empress. I will never forget your amazing voice and your pretty, hypnotic eyes.  I hope you enjoy the Summerland, and I hope you’ll come back and visit me someday. 

On Losing a Student

One of my students, a vibrant 23-year-old woman, passed away this past week. My heart goes out to her parents; I can't even begin to imagine what it is like to lose a child. All the love, the promise, the joy, gone in an instant.

Out of respect for her privacy, she will not be named here. I do not know how open she was with others about her spiritual studies with me, and do not want to out her.

This is not the first time I have had to wrestle with losing a student in death. When I taught high school many moons ago, I lost two students in the same day--sisters who were late to school who drove together. They never made it to school.

No matter how it happens, it's never easy to deal with.

As a teacher you see a different side of your students. When the topic is spiritual, you see them take more responsibility for their spirituality, and their beliefs develop a strong, healthy root system that hopefully can sustain them through the difficult times of their lives. You want them to leave your classroom empowered and with a positive attitude that they can handle anything life chooses to throw at them. If you're a good teacher, you care about the well-being of all your students and wish for their success, because when they reach their goals, you witness a miraculous thing.

Having to tell her classmates about her passing was one of the most difficult things I have ever had to do, and as I did so I felt like an old man. But we mourned her as a class, doing a ritual to honor her. We shared our memories and our stories, and even laughed some to take the edge off of our grief. But there's still going to be the emptiness, and that will be the hardest.

I have one less chair to set out on Friday nights. I had to take a graduation pendant that was supposed to be hers and place it in a box of memories, and remove her homework folder from my files. These things seem so little, and yet they take on a huge significance when you know that there will be no more homework, classes, or graduation celebrations.

I hope that all of those who mourn find peace and consolation in the many happy memories they had with her. Now is the time for those who knew this young lady to come together and mourn her, and grieve in whatever way is appropriate for them. 

I was honored to be her teacher, and I learned a lot from her. I hope to honor her memory by teaching others for many, many years to come.

May the Lord and Lady bless you abundantly, today and each day.