Before I begin, allow me to say a few words about the first two Mary stories.
My thoughts and feelings about Mary Knepp were not difficult to share. She had such a profound influence on my life and at times, my grief over losing her, even 15 years later, is still fresh. She was an amazing woman and friend - when writing about her, the words just seemed to flow from my fingertips. In the writing vernacular, her story was more show, less tell. I hope as a reader you could truly feel my anguish at losing her. She remains part of my heart and soul, my very being...I would think that is a rare thing for many people to have experienced and even today I still marvel at how she unknowingly guided and encouraged me to become the person I am today.
The story of Mary S was difficult to write. I felt it was mostly a "telling" story, a story of a sad and unfinished life. Maybe I am too close to the story to dig deeper, or just maybe not close enough. But, her story needed to be told...she too was an important part of my life, although in ways different from Mary Knepp. Perhaps hers is a tale of caution, of never being satisfied and not finding your happiness...or not recognizing that your happiness is right there in front of you - you just need to open your eyes and acknowledge it.
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My last tale is about my friend, Mary Bardwell. Not only is she alive and kicking, she is retired and enjoying it. Mary bleeds purple - her favorite color, of course! - as she loves all things LSU; good thing her daughter graduated from TCU because those Frogs also bleed purple. And thank goodness her daughter is named Sarah - I was beginning to think that maybe I should not have friends named Mary as my other Marys both had daughters named Emily...hopefully the curse has been broken.
We met about 10 years ago, when we both were on a Social Studies textbook adoption committee and represented different schools. We were paired to review the 4th grade samples presented and have been arguing about the selection ever since. I voted for the series our district ended up adopting and later, every time we had a problem with our textbook she would very HAPPILY remind me that I had voted for it and she did NOT.
The next year a 4th grade position became available at her school, Hamilton Elementary, just blocks from my home and the school I had been dying to transfer to for several years. The interview committee included two strong allies - Lisa, whose position I would be taking, and Mary. I was ecstatic when I received the job offer to teach my favorite grade at the school of my dreams!
My first year was a little difficult. Most of the teachers on our team had been at Hamilton a while and some were, well, "old school" - meaning new teachers, no matter how experienced you were, needed to sit back, listen, and do what you were told because THEY knew what to teach and how to teach it. I earned quite a few pursed lips, rolled eyes, and disgusted sighs when I tried to share my thoughts and enthusiasm. Privately, Mary would console me, telling me she had been treated exactly the same way when she first joined Hamilton and to just let it roll off my back. I learned to (mostly) keep my mouth shut and the ideas that Mary and I had, we shared with each other AFTER sitting in on our team planning sessions. Eventually we learned we had similar ideas about teaching and shared a great enthusiasm for Texas history, and the rest is...um... history...
Our class areas were right next to each other for a few years, and we had so much fun! We could make faces at each other, interrupt the other's class for some nonsense, butt in when the other was teaching, send our students over with silly messages. Often we joined our two Social Studies classes and team-taught. We stayed after school to come up with fun and creative ways to teach, sharing our ideas and enjoying each other's company. I was always the organized, prompt one and Mary was...not. She was scattered, always losing something she needed, "Where is that.....I know I just had it!" Keeping her focused and on task was my big task; her mind scatters in so many directions and I was constantly bringing her back to what we were trying to do. But, she always had such great ideas so we both laughed about our different personalities.
Pronouncing all those Spanish names in Texas history was NOT her strong suit - she constantly butchered most of the names she came across. Try teaching someone from Louisiana to roll their tongue! No, not Ca-bee-sa du Va-ka, it's Ca-BEH-zah day V(B)A-ca (Cabeza de Vaca); not Tig-gwee-a but TEE-whah (Tigua Indians)...every name was a new adventure, every year! Mary got to the point where she would just look over at me and raise her eyebrows, wait for me to correctly pronounce words, listen to them roll off my tongue, and heave a great sigh.
We referred to ourselves as the Texas History Nerds. When her husband Mark gave her a special present, she had to call and tell me all about it because she knew no one else would appreciate it like I would. He had stopped at a Buckee's (a convenience store extraordinaire for those uninitiated by the Beaver!) and bought her a huge framed map of Texas...it was a beauty! (Can you imagine finding something like this at your local corner store? Only in Texas!) Our big event of the year was heading to Washington-on-the-Brazos State Park for Texas Independence Day festivities. We would invite our students and their families to join us for the day and relive history, and always took lots of pictures to share with our classes later. I was so disappointed the year that none of my students showed up but she had a crowd of them...ok, I was Jealous!
The other Social Studies teachers did not share the same enthusiasm we had for Texas History, and when we defended the importance of teaching Social Studies along WITH Reading, Writing, Math, and Science, the general response was often an amused shaking of heads and chorus of rolled eyes. We persisted and when our students left 4th grade, they BELIEVED in Texas History and loved it. We did not believe in sitting kids down with a book and expect them to read and answer questions...we lived it. We told history as a story, always stopping at a crucial point to leave them hanging. The response was always, "No! Don't stop now! What happened next??" It is still gratifying to have former students tell us they LOVED our classes because of Social Studies. Isn't that what school should be like? It is a real shame that we have administrators who belive SS is unimportant and a waste of time since it is not state-tested until 8th grade...let 'em teach it in middle school...hah! Oops, sorry...getting off of my soapbox now, although both Mary and I still believe...yeah, yeah, yeah...
Yes, we did teach more than Social Studies. We also taught reading, writing, and spelling. Mary was an excellent writing teacher. She had a knack for getting her students organized, keeping them focused, writing to show not tell, and always, always encouraging them. So many of her kids produced amazing compositions, well-written in natural, kid-friendly terms (not formulaic or over-written, as some taught). It was no surprise that her classes consistently had the highest writing scores, not just in our school but in our district. No one has beaten her record, and what is the most amazing and encouraging thing is that her students still enjoyed writing when the year was over - she never pounded writing into them, turning it into a massive, pain-in-the-rear chore. THAT is a great teacher!
Things changed for us when Mary was asked to teach in a 3-way, teaching only Writing & Social Studies to three different classes. Not only were we separated, but teaching writing to three classes is at best, difficult and stressful, even when you know what you are doing. Our focus and our planning changed, we changed; we did not share as much or work together like we had. Her mother was ill; Mary was contemplating retirement; we drifted somewhat apart and I missed her, the daily interaction, the camraderie we had shared. I had really come to rely on her friendship and working relationship, and that seemed to be slipping away. Often she would not stay long after school, then would forget to say good night when she left. When I found out from other sources that she had put in for retirement I was deeply hurt and said some rude things I wished I could take back the minute they were out of my mouth. But the damage was done, and Mary had little to do with me after that.
The end of the school year was approaching and with that, Mary's retirement. I was hesitantly asked if I felt comfortable saying a few words at her celebration and of course, I jumped at the chance. So I put away my hurt and poured out my thoughts and thanks for the time we had worked together closely, hoping too that Mary would find something there to forgive my rudeness.
Eventually we were able to rebuild our friendship and today we talk frequently. I know she misses parts of being a teacher but also enjoys the freedom she now has, to travel when she wants and spend precious time with her dog, Lexie. Sadly Mary's mother passed away shortly after she retired; that has been very hard on her. But, she stays in touch with me and often knows much more than I do about what goes on at school as she plays bunco with a lot of our teachers (always a great wealth of current gossip shared). We often go to lunch and catch up, an interesting time as it is rarely just for lunch...she usually drags me along on a million errands - but I'm not complaining. Through my own foolishness I nearly lost an important friend.
She has taught me a lot through the years: about teaching, about being patient and loving with our students, about when to keep your thoughts to yourself and your mouth closed, and most importantly, how to be a friend. We joke with and tease each other, we share important thoughts and events, and if she calls me on Sunday afternoon she knows I will probably be at the grocery store. She doesn't have to shop on the weekends anymore...probably a good thing as what would take most people 45 minutes to accomplish could take Mary 2-3 hours! Everyone knows Mary - parents, students, friends of her daughter, teachers - and they all want to talk to her (that drives her husband crazy so he stays home). Why? Because she is kind, caring, thoughtful, and generous - a real southern lady with a terrific sense of humor. Who else would think to show us her bandaids one morning before school, covering...well, I will leave THAT to your imagination!
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So there you have it...three stories of three very different friends named Mary, all very important to me in so many different ways. It was important for me to tell their stories, to help me sort out my thoughts and feelings, and to realize what each of them meant to me.
Some day all FOUR of us, plus a host of other women, will be sitting in rocking chairs, on a porch somewhere, talking about our lives,our husbands, our children, our past, and our future. May we continue to be blessed and rewarded by the friendships we have made throughout our lives.
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