Losing Linda

There have been very few days over the past many years at Carmel that have broken my heart, but today was one of them. Today I had to tell our students that Linda Fannon, our friend and beloved art teacher, had lost her battle with cancer. Linda died on Sunday at her home surrounded by her family. She had refused earlier that day to return to the hospital and so fulfilled her wish to pass from this life to the next at her home with the people who loved her most. So be it.
I was in my office at school when I returned Bill Fannon's call. After hearing his news I walked across the hall to Linda's room--the 9-B homeroom she loved. Her presence in that room is overwhelming and it is impossible to tell where her things stop and Carmel things begin. They are and will ever be intertwined. There is artwork everywhere--some from many years past. There is still the upside down bike and the beautiful photo of Emily. There is a picture of Wish with no hair and several of Linda and Bill. Everywhere there are remnants of what Linda loved--color, beauty, the quirky and eccentric,the silly and the lovely. All the things in the room are connected most of all with the people she loved over the years...most particularly her students.
Linda was a teacher par excellence. She was personally talented and could teach those who were not. Most importantly, she saw in every student potential and she provided a haven where that potential could blossom. How many teen conflicts were discussed over pastels and charcoal? How much good advice was given while the smell of paint permeated the room? How many of you learned that service was part of life while making PB & J's for Beans and Bread? How many times did I observe her class and know that our students were experiencing the best that Catholic schools--any school really--could offer?
Linda was always known for her generosity and her optimism. Especially during her illness she set such a high standard for courage that it became impossible for any of the rest of us to complain. She was at school every day that she could physically attend. She said often,"We can do this." I thought she meant that we could get through the day or the particular problem at hand. I wonder now if she had much bigger issues on her mind.
About two weeks ago I went into the faculty room and found Linda resting on the couch. She seemed so small and frail and tired. As I walked in , she stirred,turned and smiled and said, "I am so happy to be here." It was one of the last days she was with us.
I have thought all day long about losing Linda. Her passing leaves a hole in our hearts and in our community that cannot be filled. So, I have decided to refuse to lose her. I know by faith that Linda is at peace and suffers no more. I know, too, that it is now our turn to learn from Linda and to honor the person that she was. In her honor, I choose optimism. In her honor, I choose hope. In her honor, I will be courageous. In her honor, I will teach. I have decided never to lose Linda and I hope you decide that too.