My sister handed me her phone, to show me her Facebook news feed and said “He used to teach you at school, right?”
I looked at her phone, not entirely grasping what was going on, or what was she trying to show me, or who was in that picture.
And then I read carefully, his name in bold. His funeral was at that moment.
(This was yesterday, Saturday, April 30th, 2016).
This is how we find out who die now a days. On our news feed on Facebook. Facebook has become our source of news, any news, local, international, weddings, funerals, etc.
He was my chemistry teacher, let his soul rest in peace. He taught me chemistry for four years until graduation, and here the memories start.
It was ninth grade, before he started teaching me chemistry I thought it was a subject I will never understand, even if I studied twenty four hours each day. But he made it so simple for me, and I was believing in myself again.
I remember when it was the time he was going to retire, though he loved teaching, and we begged him to stay, because we know without him we will never know how to deal with Chemistry again. And he did, he stayed with us till the end.
I remember when we asked him about his birthday, and he said it was on March 8, The International Women’s day. And he refused to celebrate it, so we lied and told him it was one of our classmates birthday and we celebrated his birthday with him. He was happy. And I still remember I was quiet that day and he was concerned.
I remember I once took the highest grade in class and though he showed everyone how proud he was of me, he took me aside and said “I expected more from you.” I was his favorite and he always pushed me forward. He made me believe that I am smart and I can do better than I was doing. Though I took the highest of grades with him. I was never the best students in any class, except his.
I remember his classes, how I understood everything and how I developed a sense of humor during his laboratory classes. And he always went along with my jokes about every single experiment we made. I wanted to be the clown of the class, and he allowed me. And yet, I did wonderfully in his classes.
His death came as a shock to me. I never kept any contact with any of my teachers. And I always thought of them, how wonderful they were to me. How they helped me go through in high school. And this teacher in particular, he always believed in me. He always believed in my abilities, and always pushed me forward.
I know everyone will die eventually, I just never thought I would find out, as this experience in my life is over and I thought that the less I know about my school teachers, the more they will live in my memory as I remember them. But knowing one of them, a dear one of them, is gone, it makes me feel empty, upset, and mostly like I have missed a moment I will never get the chance to get back.
My condolences to my teacher’s family. I know I will remember him. He will be one of the best teachers I’ve ever had the pleasure to learn many things from. If not Chemistry, then about my self and who am I now.