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And it's not all emotional exhaustion either. My body feels like I've tied myself to an electric fence. Things stop working properly (in some ways I care not to divulge), and I always get sick within a couple of days of the end...as if my body is finally being allowed the time to break down completely.
When I first met Jennifer Ames, I was disappointed. She wasn't extroverted and bubbly like I pictured I needed. Instead, she was serious, quiet, and observant. But I soon found that she was a hard worker, took great initiative, and was a quick learner. And I was impressed with the lessons she taught the kids. I remember thinking that she was a lot like me, and was annoyed with myself for not expecting much from her--just because she was reserved. As I got to know her better, I took note of her ever-kind ways and sincere smile--the way it would unexpectedly appear as we talked, or she interacted with the kids. I liked her.
The students had a lot of hard questions. The hardest one being: "Why would Heavenly Father let her die?" At this point, I threw all political correctness out the window. Screw it. Where else were we supposed to turn for peace and comfort, but to the Gospel? Every last one of them attends primary anyway. So, there in a public education classroom, we held a discussion about God having a plan for everyone, and His always knowing best....even if we don't understand. He sees more than we do. The accident was not the result of a stupid mistake on her part. God simply needed her home. One young man even suggested that she was probably being a real teacher now. To which I answered that was probably true.
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.That next week, we held many impromptu discussions like this. We dedicated the class play performances to our Miss Ames, and I was touched beyond words to see the way even my insanely ADHD student sat for almost an hour, carefully creating the most beautifully sincere sympathy card for the Ames family you ever saw. (If you knew this kid, and you saw his card, you would understand my shock.)
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.When I found a grocery bag with a dinner plate, dish soap, food coloring, and baggie of cotton swabs in her desk, I did some research to find out what lesson she had been planning. Through Google, I found THIS video, showing the combination of these ingredients to be quite magical. So, on the last day of school, we went ahead and did the experiment. It was a nice last tribute to Miss Ames and all the work she had put in to her fun activities.
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I took off on Thursday night for Utah . I wanted to be to Spanish Fork in time for the funeral the next morning. Becca called to say she would come with me and offer support (how sweet is she?). I was touched, thanked her, but said I just needed to go alone. After this week from h-e-double-hockey-sticks, I needed some quiet time to regroup.
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I stayed the night with--get this--my Grandma Jolley--who lives in Pleasant Grove, Utah. Doesn't that just sound like the happiest of places?
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.This is her house. .
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At the funeral the next morning, I was emotional the moment I walked through the doors of the building. Introducing myself to her father, a sizable man with kind eyes, I shook his hand and explained that Jenny had been working in my 3rd grade classroom. Unexpectedly, he grabbed me in a hug, sobbing: "Oh, she loved those kids!" My face buried in his stomach, I cried too.
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The service was lovely. Sitting next to her BYU-Idaho bishop, I met the little nephew she had talked about, sang hymns, recognized Jenny's smile in her mother's, recognized her eyes and nose in her father's, learned more about her goodness, cried, and was comforted.
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(picture from LDS.org)
I spent the rest of the day all by myself. After treating me to a Whopper, I took myself to the Provo temple to attend a session. I took everything slow and easy. I took my time admire the flowers. I stopped to enjoy the view and the warm weather. It was perfect.
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