Hi, Everyone!
Today is August 31, 2012. Sixteen years ago on this very day, my grandfather Clark Kenneth Jones passed away. I was only two years old at the time, but I knew something was wrong because my mom was crying a lot. My dad tried to explain it to me in the simplest way possible; he said that Jesus moved Grampa Clark into his brand-new house. It wasn’t until I got older that I understood what he meant.
My fondest memory of my Grampa Clark was always when he lifted me high in the air and pretended to drop me, just to hear me giggle out of excitement. Afterwards, he would kiss me on the nose and call me “Bright Eyes.”
I may have mentioned this in one of my previous blog posts—and forgive me for my many déjà vu moments—but I am pulling double duty, per se. Aside from being the first in my family to attend Rust College since my Gramma Jewel and my Great Aunt Reesie, I am studying to be a kindergarten teacher like my Grampa Clark. I always wanted to be a teacher because over the years, I have had teachers who showed that they really cared about me. I know that my Grampa Clark is up there in Heaven with a big grin on his face, and he’s probably saying, “Go get ‘em, Bright Eyes!”
By the way, here is a picture of my Grampa Clark when he won the 1992 Teacher of the Year award at Sapp Elementary. As you can see, he really loved his job. His greatest award was hearing a student tell him that he was “the bestest teacher in the whole wide world.”
Grampa Clark, I promise that I will not let you down. I’m dedicating my Bearcat experience to your memory. After I graduate and land my teaching job, I pray that I’m at least a quarter of the teacher that you were. I love you.
Until next time, you guys.
Hugs & Kisses,
Natasha
No comments:
Post a Comment