Student and Teacher: Tara and I (Part One)

When the teacher is ready, the student will come. When the student is ready, the teacher will come. - Unknown

What prophet or wise soul coined this phrase? 

Once upon a time, I was a second-grade teacher in the Middleton public school system. I loved the kids and they, for the most part, loved me back. However, every so often, these special lights would appear, that would make going to work a joy. We shared an instant bond that transcended time and place. Our relationships and those with their mothers, just bloomed like roses in June. We for a time, were able to maintain these friendships, but the journey of life calls us forward and takes other tacks.  However, the memory, the connection, the specialness of it all remain.

As fate would have it, really it is a HUGE blessing, our paths are crossing, merging and paralleling again. It began with a simple package left in the vestibule of our elevator building, up here on the campus. The name of the addressee caught my attention because of the spelling of this Irish name. Could this be the same woman, the mother of this exceptional daughter? So I waited for our paths to cross either at the mailboxes, in the parking lot or along the natural trails circling the drive. Didn't happen. So finally when I had to do some business with the concierge, I inquired about her. Of course, the concierge would not provide the apartment number, though by this time, I knew we were talking about the same woman. I asked for a piece of paper to write a note. Would they please see to it that the note was delivered whenever she came to pick up a package? The concierge agreed to do so. Then I waited expectantly, every so often wondering how come I hadn't heard back?

Through chance, I had learned of the sale of her prestigious and glorious floral shop and the sudden death of her beloved and devoted husband. She must be busy managing these life-altering changes in circumstances. From my own other worldly experiences, I understood this all took time. I really wondered about her special daughter, Tara, and what had become of her because she was always so perky, so intelligent and with a heart of gold being rooted in strong spiritual values. It would take nine months before we finally reconnected at the clubhouse pool. Where else would you find two goddess-princesses taking in the sun? I can't recall, who spied who first. It had to be Tara, because my vision isn't my strongest sense. It is difficult for me to spot people in a crowd without a cue or a guide. But there she was, all beauty and grace grown into womanhood. She is amazingly beautiful with piercing blue eyes and with a thousand-watt smile. If memory serves me correctly, I recall seeing her the earlier at the pool, all hooked up with an iPod while reading a book.

Soon enough, our eyes locked and large smiles filled our faces. Naturally, we pulled two chaise loungers together and didn't stop talking for hours. We had a lot to catch up on. Some of it tragic, of suffering, and health battles. There were other conversations of encouragement, acceptance, and creating fun with a positive outlook even when the cards of life have dealt us some painful and difficult situations to overcome. It is here where true courage and resilience and character are formed in the adversities of life. Soon I learned, this dynamic mother-daughter duo, who were partners a creative venture, that would make Martha Stewart look like an amateur, had sold the family home, had become roommates, and planned to stay as residents for a long time. My heart leaped for joy.

Making friends in large apartment complexes is not easy. Here we found ready made authentic friendships that effortlessly were empowering as well as nurturing. We picked up where we left off as if no time had passed. Tara had acquired so much wisdom (though I suspect she was born a wise soul) that I began to see myself as her student. She, with her mother, had become my teachers. They served to remind me to be gentle with myself and to face facts as they really stood. Not what I thought they should be, but the truth, reality. With our conversations we laugh and cut through the bullshit quickly enough. There are no pretenses at all when we are together.

Tara has brightened my life each weekend day whenever we meet at the pool. This is our second summer season here on the campus. Turnover, being what it is, having a buddy is a real plus. Having a pool mate who also loves the rejuvenating power of the sun, makes a difference. Tara makes a difference. So does her mother. We make plans to barbecue, get off the campus but find it just enjoyable to roam from apartment to apartment drinking delicious wines accompanied by cheeses, fruits, crackers and bread. As fate would have it we live in the same building, though on opposite sides where we would have been hard pressed to meet otherwise.

Recently Tara and I could be spied after work as the sun set, lounging around breaking a few house rules, drinking wine hidden in an insulation bag with discreet cups while the President (much too late) finally addressed the country about the BP fiasco in the Gulf. There is nothing like a conspiracy between friends. It was just us and the Russian lifeguard that evening. We closed the pool. Other times, we sit in the partial shade provided by the portcullis. The sun and heat help us in locating a perfect spot to plant ourselves. Have you noticed the changes in the sun? We have. But we also note the petunias that rim this sunny spot, yet it is especially the hydrangea bushes that call the attention of the three of us. They are now blooming in pink and blue. We covet these blooms. No one should be surprised if we help the gardeners thin out these flowers. It would, of course, have to be done over the cover of night, after the pool has closed. But the freshness of the hydrangeas would complement our respective homes. We may have to be discreet but I think we could accomplish this without any problem. My, lord, what has become of this teacher who may lead her former student astray? We shall see. It would all be in good fun. Frankly, I don't think anyone would notice or care.
I really love her and miss when we are not cooking up some plan. Hopefully, this weekend will prove to be sunny so our mutual adventures can move ahead. Summertime is such a short season in New England.