About twenty years ago now I had a feeling that was just softly gnawing at me.
Like a Panda on a paw full of bamboo leaves.
You know the kind…
It just keeps coming to the front of your mind and without making a sound, shouts, “DO SOMETHING!”
Mine was a thought about my teachers I had when I was coming up through school.
The thought was, “I wonder if anybody tells their teachers, Thank you for putting up with me through those years.”
There were a few who came to mind.
My kindergarten teacher Mrs. Baumgartner, our music teacher Mrs. Christ, my shop teacher Mr. Dailey, my science teacher Mr. Colter but the person who was coming to mind the most was my little league coach Mr. Dean Peterson.
I was relaying this feeling to my supervisor at the time and he said, “If you feel that strongly about it, why don’t you write him a letter.”
So I did. Wrote it up and sent it out.
Fast forward to the summer of 2015 and my work was celebrating it’s 50th birthday and we were having quite a big celebration.
I was on the planning committee and was in charge of getting a petting zoo and horse drawn wagon rides.
I happen to know the folks who own the local zoo (I got to hold a tiger) and my little league coach was President of a local horse drivers association.
I reached out to him and he was more than happy to get a few wagons together for the occasion.
We emailed back and forth, had a meeting or two and talked on the phone, I was glad I contacted him.
As the planning continued another little thought came to mind.
“I wonder if he ever got that letter?”
The day was approaching steadily, and we needed to have one more meeting and Mr. Peterson came out one last time to confirm the wagon route and let us know that he would have three good teams. A Percheron team, an American Cross team, and his Quarter Horse team.
It was at that funny time of the afternoon, the little lull before the end of the day and it was just him and I walking back to his car.
I had been thinking about asking him if he received the letter way back when but the timing had always been off.
It felt like the right time today, now.
We were approaching his car so without looking at him I nonchalantly asked,
“Hey coach, did you ever receive a letter I sent you a long time ago?”
Without looking at me he stepped over to me as we were walking and put his arm across my shoulder and squeezed my neck and said, “I sure did. Still have it too!”
I just smiled.
He said, “Thank you for that.”
He relayed some advice that his uncle had given him when he was considering going into teaching, his uncle said,
“Don’t expect anything, don’t expect a Thank you! or anything like that. Not right away any how. But some where down the road someone will come along and will be a reminder of why you wanted to become a teacher.”
I guess I’m that reminder.
That just got me teary.Funny how we grow up and realize we were not so perfect,difficult even rebellious.I will share this with you Dave..I had the honor of taking care of one of my favorite teachers.I am a can_caregiver.Anyway..she was in a CBRF that I worked at.She had Alzheimer’s.so she did not know who I was Ofcourse.but I let her know how much I loved her as a teacher…It felt good to give back..It Lauramade her smile😊.Awesome post.thankyou
Thanks Laura. I will be doing a few more posts that will be honoring my coach, a little bit of a biography. Please excuse the email address and the photo. My writing coach set up the site for me and we have not switched stuff over yet. Thanks for the feedback. Keep reading!!