And yet life, unexplainably, goes on...

I've been wanting to blog this for a while, but have also been reluctant to do so.

Last Monday, the 7th, we found out that one of our 3 year olds had died Sunday evening. He was in Isa's class and one of the sweetest little boys you'd ever hope to meet. We're still not sure what exactly happened, but know that he drowned in an outdoor jacuzzi. His 7 year old sister found him, witnesses performed CPR, he was taken to the hospital but died that night. My co-worker told me at around 8:30 Monday morning, and my first thought was, "Wow, that's a really bad joke." I couldn't even begin to process it as true. The whole day was a blur and teachers had to continually break away from our classrooms to cry. We also had to keep up a cheery front for our kids. Every time I looked over my shelf into Isa's classroom, I teared up again. Her teachers were completely devastated and it hurt to see them in such pain.

We were told to keep the news to ourselves until the school put out a letter to the parents. I think it should have come out that very day, but it wasn't sent out until Tuesday afternoon. By then, many of the parents had already heard and so had some children. It was in the newspapers and on TV. Oahu is like one big small town. Every one knows someone who knows or is related to someone else. News spreads very quickly. Especially tragic news like this.

On Tuesday night Rebeca and I took the girls out to eat for dinner. We decided instead of sitting her down at home, to tell her, we would get some Menc.hies and sit outside at the shopping center. We told her that Jason had had a very sad accident and that his body had been hurt too badly to get better. I, of course, start crying. We told her that he died and that he wouldn't be back at school anymore. Isa got very still and quiet and just thought for a long time. I told her that I will remember Jason and the fun times we had at school, and that if she had any questions she could always ask us or talk to us. She asked, "Well why did they live in an apartment with a pool?" She was angry! And that was it. She didn't want to talk about it anymore and we let her be.

On Wednesday I had to stay at home with Maya so Isa stayed with me.

On Thursday her teachers talked to their entire class about Jason. I stood on my side of the partition and watched/listened. Just seeing how little they were, listening to a book about life, and then hearing about their friend. It was profoundly sad. Many of them didn't quite understand, and some reacted quite matter-of-fact, which of course is completely normal. Ms. Kristin, the aide, said that Isa just watched her as she cried and listened very quietly. Mr. Tracy, the teacher, broke down at one point and our director took over. She asked if any of the children had any questions, and there were a lot of "whys?" and "hows?", but after she explained they were fine. Children are resilient.

I had my group grief counseling that day as well. It was...sad. I know I keep using that word, but really that's what defines this whole time. We talked about how we found out, what the worst part of it all was and what we would remember about him. As a teacher, I am crushed at this loss. As a parent, my breath has been taken away. I try not to think about what if, but I do...and I sob. If anything ever happened to Isa or Maya... To think about what Jason's parents are going through...I just can't. I picture them and what their days must be like. Suffocating. Darkness. Having other children to take care of. And that poor 7 year old. Too much pain.

That night at dinner, Rebeca asked Isa what they had done in meeting that morning. She does this every night, but she also knew what had happened that day. Isa responded, "Nothing!!" We didn't push it. We knew it would come out eventually.

Friday was tsunami day and school was cancelled. Isa was a complete wreck the entire day. Her class was supposed to go on a walking field trip to the post office so she was pissed that it was cancelled. The rest of the day was one fit after another. She didn't know what to do with herself. She was in a horrible mood and we knew that it probably had to do, somewhat, with Jason's death. She screamed her banshee scream that we hadn't heard in a long time and she was angry. Angry, angry, angry.


Jason's dad came by to collect his belongings on Tuesday and the service was Wednesday the 9th. It was a private funeral so none of us were able to go. It's all happened so quickly.

I hope that we'll be able to do something as a staff/school to honor him. So that when we come back from spring break, it's not just business as usual. I don't want him to be forgotten.

Isa is slowly starting to talk about it. She mentioned to my mom that her classmate had died. And that was about it. She doesn't want to elaborate just yet, but I know she's doing some deep thinking. My heart hurts for her. She's just a baby, but already she's losing some of her innocence. Not fair.

Whenever she had asked about death before, I would say that it happened when you were really old, or really really sick. And of course this doesn't fit either of those.

Jason,

I will always remember your sweet smile, your quiet demeanor and your squeaky shoes. I'll remember how proud you were when you were bell ringer for your line and how you would always smile into our classroom when you passed by to go outside. I'll miss seeing your striped pants and hooded t-shirts. From tearful goodbyes in the morning, to finding your place amongst your classmates, you grew so much! Thank you for being a friend to Isa. I'm sorry if she ever bossed you around. :) We'll miss you, sweet boy. Go find your light.