I’m sorry I never told you
In the red bag that my mom brought to me while I was in Flushing was my Junior High School yearbook, that my sister found and told her to get to me.
The reason I was thrilled to get it was for one reason and one reason alone – I wanted to figure out the name of my English teacher.
See, the most influential teacher I had was a Ms. Meltzer and for years I always meant to find her and let her know that, but life got in the way.
Plus, I had no idea what her first name was.
But with the yearbook, I immediately looked for her and was disappointed to find that it only had her first initial was “B” and that led me – well, really, the Firecracker to a search and we found “Binnie Meltzer’s” obituary.
I’m certain it was her.
It made me both happy and sad; happy in that I found her, in a manner of speaking, and – of course – sad that I was too late.
She died in 2006. A lifetime ago.
She was the first teacher that I was always happy to see and that made me think that I had any type of talent for anything at all.
If she was still alive, I woulda told her what a profound and positive influence she was on me – I write because she told me once that I was a good writer and I believed her.
That’s the power of a good teacher.
Goodnight, Ms. Meltzer.
You were an amazing teacher and human, and I’m forever grateful we met.
On a much more mundane note, because of alla my injuries, my sleep’s been crap lately, so the Firecracker suggested that I get some nature – well, as much nature as NYC provides.
To that end, we had a little picnic in Central Park near Sheep’s Meadow, which was pretty great, I gotta say.
Her: Honestly, this is all I really need. My person, a picnic, a park, and my pup.
Me: I could do without onea those things.
Her: Oh, stop…
Location: supermarket for tea, which I forgot to buy despite it being WHY I WENT IN THE FIRST PLACE
Mood: annoyed at myself
Music: I got an open mind so, tell me where you wanna go (Spotify)
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