There comes a time when people just have to part ways, turn around and walk in a different direction. And this, I mean literally. Despite always having known this, it is inexplicably heartbreaking to part ways with the Preacherman - a philosopher, a mentor, an idol in whose hands I could lay my life down without hesitation, completely trusting him with it. Of course, this is no final goodbye, because, it's a small world after all (and God bless technology). But, to be oceans apart, to know that I will no longer have to spend (tolerate) at least six hours of him every week, to accept that I will not be seeing that lovable, bearded face and those animated eyebrows raised at me, claiming homework - Now how is that easy in any way?
And, every time I let my thoughts flow freely in this direction, it always had the same affect, I still cannot get past the throbbing in my head and the blurred vision.
But I know that he just has to go to the other side of the world, pick up the new building blocks and design for himself the next stage of his life full of hard work, success and happiness. And with the amount of faith I have in this man, I know that he will try his best to retain as much of his current life as possible. And that includes us.
I also know that I will never be able to accept any other Physics or Chemistry teacher. Ever. It will always be him, no matter who I'm officially taking lessons from. I will always be a student of the Preacherman. This man not only taught me science, but also life. And how can anyone else ever beat that?
The least we could do for the person who has given us so very much was to bid him a cherishable (and hopefully temporary) farewell, letting him know that he is loved beyond measure. And the most we could do in such a limited amount of time was, well, not as much as we would have liked to. But it was worth everything, though it included some of us working our asses off.
It was a beautiful evening. A large crowd of people, thirty-seven of his eleventh-graders and one very helpful, involved tenth-grader, gathered to make the occasion truly memorable for him. Suddenly, it didn't matter which school you went to, which friend circle you belonged in, what kind of student you were, how long you had been around, how different (or how uncomfortably similar) you were to whomever - People were brought together by that one thing in common: A wish to make it special for the beloved Preacherman. Of course, everyone's degree of urgency was nowhere near equal, but its mere existence within each individual was enough.
And, as we gave him things to remember us by and reasons not to leave, he shed tears out of sentiments I cannot even explain. But we knew that he knew. He knew that he was going to be permanent part of us. And, in that infinite moment, it was enough. But, then again, almost.
beautifully put :')
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