i will remember you

One of my biggest fears of entering the world of being a teacher was the inevitable truth that I would perhaps one day lose a student, to a car accident, or sickness or something else equally horrible.  For all the complaining I've done about the stress and anxiety, the heartache and heartbreaks, my sense of failure in being a teacher...I believe that my biggest weakness is that I care too much.  I could look into the eyes of my students, even past their behavior at that moment, and see a world of possibility and so much hope for the future.  When I walked out of the doors of the high school that had been my "home away from home" for four years, my eyes brimming with tears, it wasn't because I was going to miss teaching Julius Caesar, or The Great Gatsby, despite my love for both pieces of literature...it was because I was sincerely going to miss the smile so many of my students brought to my face.  Those four years were some of the most instrumental in my life.  They have made me a better friend, a better teacher, a better mother, and these lessons have stayed with me, even though my prescense has long since been forgotten in room B225.

I always considered myself lucky that I never had to attend a funeral of one of these young souls.  Yes, there was grief.  Parent's lives cut far too short, grandmas and grandpas that were lost.  But not one of mine.  Never one of mine. (and yes, I will still always think of you as "mine").

Until now.

Christopher was an average student that often ignored my reminders about turning in late homework, studying for tests, and completing projects.  But my patience never wore thin.  His smile was SO great and SO big, it never failed to put a smile on my face.  In the hallways between classes, when I would stand at the entrance to my door greeting students, if he passed, he always always stopped to say hello.  He shared with me struggles of his life, and I listened with an honest and open ear.  I remember your junior year, Chris, when you were struggling with your research paper and you asked your English teacher if you could come talk to me.  It was a proud moment.  I remember in the mornings when you would get to school a few minutes early and you would come in my room to talk....oftentimes to encourage me to keep my chin up...just as I encouraged you.

I got the news late one night, via text message, and my heart sunk to the floor.  Why?  Why did you feel that there was no more hope?  Why did you choose to leave with so many unanswered questions?  I didn't sleep well that night, dreams of your smile and laugh filling my head.  I wanted to believe that it wasn't true...but the barrage of messages I saw the next morning on FB made it brutally true...you were gone.  While my heart and mind may never understand it, on March 4, 2010, you chose to take your own life, and left a gaping hole in the lives of those around you.  I read so many of your friends' messages....of their love and care for you, and I wondered in your last days if you knew just how much you were loved.  I wish I would have reached out, even one last time, to tell you how proud I was of you, as a student and as a young man.  Sadly, life didn't give me this opportunity. 

I went to your showing, and held back sobs as I looked at all the pictures and momentos of your life, a life cut short, a future that won't be seen.  And then I opened the pamphlet given to me at the entrance to the church, and the tears flowed freely.  On the cover was the most stunning, happy picture of you and your mom, a beautiful woman that loved you fiercely...a love that I can identify with as I look at my own son.  I don't know who chose to put this poem on the inside cover, but I do know how significant it has been in my life.  Each of my two sisters and I wear a constant reminder in ink on our bodies.

i carry your heart with me

i carry your heart with me
(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it
(anywhere i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)


i fear no fate
(for you are my fate my sweet)
i want no world
(for beautiful you are my world my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you


here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)


and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart
(i carry it in my heart)

ee cummings

It is my favorite poem, and as I reread and reread it I understood how appropriate it was for you.  As I came closer to your casket, I saw your family, huddled together, tears fresh on their faces, still trying to make sense of the fact that you weren't coming home.  I want you to know, Chris, that when I hugged your mom and told her just how sorry I was that you were gone, how sorry I was for her hurt, that you were a very special student to me and you brought life into so many of my days.  She hugged me back, with a strength I am sure I couldn't have mustered in such a difficult time.  What a beautiful family you have, Chris.  I gently touched your casket, and walked away...wishing SO much that you hadn't walked away, and that you weren't gone.  The place was packed, Chris, you should have seen it.  The outpouring of love and support was staggering.  I hugged so many of your friends and felt their tears on my shoulder, their shaking sobs in my arms.  I looked them each in the eye, and told them, that together, they could get through this.  And then I made them promise me that they would never lose hope.  I wish I would have asked you to promise me the same thing. 

I will remember you for all my days as a student who changed my life.  And I know that you will be unbearably missed by all who surrounded you that day.

I have found strength and comfort when I opened my Bible that night and read:
1 Corinthians 13:12 "Now we see but a poor reflection as in a mirror; then we shall see face to face. Now I know in part; then I shall know fully, even as I am fully known.  And these three remain: faith, hope and love.  But the greatest of these is love."  I don't understand why you left, but it isn't my job to understand.  I don't have the answers, only He does.  And so I wait, for the day when we will meet again, face to face.

Your friends have said over and over and over to you in messages and pictures, rest in peace.  And I feel as though there are no more fitting words.  May you now, rest in peace.  You will be missed.

Christopher Thomas Lee Hodge

March 4, 2010

Christopher Thomas Lee Hodge of Brownsburg died March 4. He was 20.
Mr. Hodge attended Grace Fellowship Church in Avon.

Survivors include his mother and step-father, Maria and John Armstrong of Brownsburg; his father, Daniel Hodge of Brownsburg; brothers Andrew and wife Brianna, Brad, and Ryan; sisters Emily and Molly; grandparents Tom and Betty Lou Freije, Ted and Barbara Hodge, and Harry Armstrong; several aunts, uncles, cousins, nieces, and nephews; a girlfriend, Sophia Kelly; and numerous friends.
Preceding him in death was a sister, Laura, and a grandmother, Rosie Armstrong.

Services are 10 a.m. March 10 at Grace Fellowship Church in Avon. Interment will be at Brownsburg Cemetery.
Calling at the church is from 3 to 8 p.m. Tuesday.
Matthews Mortuary in Brownsburg is handling arrangements.

Memorials may be made to the Chris Hodge Memorial Fund through Monroe Bank in Brownsburg. Checks should be made payable to Tom Freije.