Well done, little one. Well done...

Life. So much life has happened.

5 Grand kids and 2 on the way. We will have 6 boys and 2 little girls by May of 2020. That alone is wonderfully awesome. Little miracles. 

And I got my first teaching job. A self-contained elementary life skills class. I have two wonderfully awesome paraprofessionals who get me. We work well together. I can't wait to see how we grow and actually run a successful classroom. So far, it's been full of bumps and bruises and tears (mostly mine) and laughter and so much joy and a big learning curve. For me, not the kids. I have much to learn. So much room to grow.

Our last picture together, just the day before Friday.

Teaching isn't easy. I'm responsible for these little people who are trying to find their own place in the world. Where will they fit in? What awesome ways will they contribute to society? My goal is to show them how loved and important they are. That what they do and what they say and think really matters. I'm trying to show them they can do so much more than they ever thought or imagined. We've been working on independence and thinking for themselves. There are more ways to get things done than how I might tell them and believe me - these kiddos will find a way and most usually it's just as good or better than my idea. They also have ideas that don't quite work out but we learn and grow from them. And trust me, I have more flopped ideas than they ever will. They still love me. They show me grace every single day. Every hug. Every smile. Every hand hold. Grace. 

Much joy and happiness...

As the new quarter begins, the real work must begin. We've had time to get to know each other. I've had time to see what they can do. We've gotten in a little groove. We're ready. And then the day after Halloween comes...

The day after Halloween. Bright and early on the way to school. With a phone call from my Beloved Principal. We lost one of our own. A sweet, very much loved eight-year-old from our very small class.  We had 8. Now there are 7. Just like that. Sucker-punched. There. Are. Seven.

Honestly, I'm still numb. I'm more worried about Laynie's former teacher. She's known her for so long. How does Ginger feel? How is she doing? How is Laynie's aide? How will Courtney process this? Our kids. I'm worried about our kids. On Friday, they asked all day long where Laynie was. They loved her. They helped take care of her. She was their very dear friend. I've been worried about their parents as they share the news with their sons and daughters. And Laynie's family. How are they doing? How do they pick up and go on? 

Fly Laynie, fly!

I'm a private mourner. Give me a bathroom stall, an empty room, a car ride home, and I might be able to process all this. Give me a blank document and I will write. I have to write. And pray. And the tears will start to flow. My heart beats to Laynie's favorite songs. The smiles come through tears as I post pictures. Hope blossoms knowing Laynie flew straight to Heaven. She's dancing. She's singing. She's running. She's sitting on Jesus' lap. She didn't have to take her back brace with her. No stinking stander. No feeding tubes. Now she can eat and drink anything she wants. No more crying. I know she's talking everyone's ear off up there. 

She left an imprint on my life. I will never forget Laynie or the things she taught me. Everyone has a purpose in this world. Laynie's was to bring joy and happiness to all she came in contact with. Well done, little one. Well done... 

Hugs and kisses, my Laynie-Loo.