Remember last fall, all that messy business when this, and “Your Worst Nightmare” happened, on my clock? A bond was formed when I called my son’s teacher, a woman I did not yet know well, to come over and stand in my living room, at 11 p.m. to say, “I think your bunny is dead.” The bunny that had been her pet, friend and surrogate child, for the last seven years. “So, could you please hurry up and get him out of here before my kids wake up and wonder why this bunny is so stiff?”
The teacher has a soft spot in my heart, not only for the drama we share, but for the gentle way she handled my son’s ridicule when he went to school, and heard the words, “Bunny Killer” on the playground.
I helped my son write a year-end thank you note to this teacher, at the last minute. I had waited too long, and he was too tired to write it, so I ended up coaxing most of the words out of him. My version went like this:
Thank you for being so kind to me this year when I was so sad.
He clarified things a bit, changing it to
Thank you for being so calm when I was so sad.
A powerful shift in words. He truly captured this teacher’s essence with that one word, calm. He’s lucky to have her again, for one more year.