She kept in touch by email since her move from South Texas to Florida to live close to her son. She learned about the cancer at a routine mammogram examination. There were other tumors, and she knew the fight would be up-hill, but she was game. She loved living in Florida, and enjoyed the climate and the cultural atmosphere with her usual enthusiasm.
I met her at the introduction to the doctoral program, and felt in her a supportive spirit, even a champion. Throughout the nearly six years of the process, whether as a teacher, mentor or friend, I got to know her. She was a guest at our home and generously shared her home with us.
She loves to follow politics online as well as on TV, and her courses reflected her interest in public policy and how education is affected at all levels. She attended the first political blogger's conference in Austin, excited to be a part of the new force on the political scene.
A teacher has many roles, some hard, others easier; giving counsel through a rigorous doctoral program is one that my teacher managed with calm, clear and certain language. I remember thinking through the fog of my frustrations during our many meetings, if she thinks I can do this, maybe I really can.
As I think of her today, my memories range from when we met and I was accepted into the program to the last time I saw her at graduation in December of 2009. I often remember the excitement of being with her in class, or socially, as she energetically dissected an idea.
Most especially, I hope to always keep present in my heart that territory inside myself that she saw before I knew it existed and to which she introduced me. This is an educator's most precious gift: letting her students know they are seen and heard, beyond the surface, and to the core.
It's the sustenance of the soul, a teacher's understanding. It's as faint as a breeze. Yet, when it refreshes a thirsty spirit, it is the encouragement that spins forward with its immeasurable strength all progress, all endeavors.
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