Dear Student

You sit at the table closest to the podium, and I see the way your face struggles every 12922024_10153984280136380_1174294200_o (1)morning to form straight lines instead of curved ones. Your grades are impeccable. You seem much older than you are.

When you told me you’d been together for three years, since high school, moved away together, it’s only after you tell me there’s something in her skull. Something inoperable. She only has two months to live. I tell you miracles happen. I tell you to keep your chin up, to wait for a second opinion. Medical technology improves every day.

What I don’t tell you is what I do after class. What I don’t tell you is that I turn off the lights, lock my office door, and swipe through your Facebook photos under my desk, wet cheeks lit by the backlight of an Android phone. What I don’t tell you is that I sob for you, that it takes everything I have to look you in the face and smile.

What I don’t tell you is that I don’t know how you can be so young and so strong.

Advertisements

2 Comments

Filed under Creative Nonfiction, Nonfiction, Teaching

2 responses to “Dear Student

  1. I love you 😚 you’re so beautiful inside and out.

    Liked by 1 person

Say something about this...

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s