My first grade teacher has Stage 4 breast cancer that has metastasized to the bone. She was one of my favorite teachers and she and my mom became close because she lived one street away and a certain United Nations day incident where I represented Japan.
I don't remember most of my teachers from grade school; but her I do remember because she was a big part of my life. Maybe I was more awestruck by teachers then; but maybe it was because she was a wonderful person whom I felt was like a second mother to me. Too often we take our teachers forgranted; it's poignant to note that there were some people who were totally devoted to that noble profession, who could reign in a class of 6-year-olds, even if she had to threaten to pull down some people's panties at some time or another.
I guess I wanted my other classmates to know and a lot of these people that I haven't heard from in ages are coming out of the woodwork. We might come up with a video or a big card with pictures or something... but what's most important is that we give her our support and prayers. And after two decades, we still know her, we still hold her dear enough and think of her enough to at least try to do something, and we are trying to do that together--I'm proud that I was part of that class.