A lifespan.

Each of us has that one teacher who showed us the valuable difference between just going to school and loving the idea of education itself.

Who taught us excellence over mediocrity, passion over passivity and the fine art of learning how to learn for ourselves instead of regurgitating yet another someone’s thoughts and convictions.

Who soothed our painful rejections at the hands of bullies, listened to our deepest revelations after hours, and was in every front row of every event to cheer us on to victory.

Who after our school days were over when life learning was just beginning, kept in touch with invitations to their own family dinners as if you always belonged at their table and insisted you call them by their first name as awkward as it seemed.

Much older now with faded memories and eternities in view, by pure serendipity they come back into your life once again, and again you’re the student thankful for so many differences she made in your life that she will never fully understand but for which she is fully responsible.

And now the most sincere words I can muster are thank you, Mrs. Nimmo. May God give you the rest you have earned. We will all miss you.

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