My son’s high school principal was also his first grade teacher. She’s actually been with him throughout his entire schooling. She knows him better than many of his own family does. In fact, she’s been like a second mother to him over the years. She’s been there for him in difficult times, she’s help direct him in his accomplishments, she’s taxied and fed him more than would ever be expected of anyone to do, and she’s been, and will always be, his friend. And she’s a very dear friend to our whole family, as well. That’s why yesterday at my son’s graduation I felt compelled to make a confession to her about something that happened back in her first grade class. Something I caused and never came clean about all those years earlier. Something silly, maybe even easily forgotten, but something I’ve always remembered and wanted to share with her.
You see, my dad, despite his insistence for logic and reason in all things, was a believer in astrology. You probably wouldn’t think he had a predilection toward anything metaphysical or of a divining nature upon first meeting him, but in fact, he was quite passionate about the influence the alignment of the heavenly bodies have on our lives. After further consideration on my part as an adult concerning astrology, I concluded it to be hogwash. Of course, I never was so explicit about my feelings with my dad, but we did have some disagreements over astrology and I was able to relate my disbelief, a bit more delicately than actually calling it hogwash. We had some pretty good discussions over the plausibility of astrology. Good times, indeed.
The incident for which I chose to confess happened because of that antipathy I had for astrology. My son’s first grade class was learning about the solar system, and on one particular day they were learning about the names of the moons for each planet. At home, when our son was sharing about the different moons throughout the solar system, I spouted out a pun I found pretty darn amusing that was a play on astrology terminology. I said something along the lines of, “I wonder what my dad would say about Uranus being in conjunction with your moon? Get it, Ur(your)-anus in conjunction with your moon?” Well, I’m the only one that found that one amusing, and after reading it I’m sure you can see why. As bad as the joke was, my real mistake was saying it in front of my son. You see, he didn’t know it was a joke.
The next day our favorite first grade teacher met Mom at the car. The conversation went sort of thusly:
“Your son is so smart!”
“Oh boy, what did he say this time?”
“We were talking about the moons of Uranus today, and he shared how Uranus is in conjunction with it’s moons. I’d never even heard of that before. I was amazed he knew that kind of detail about the solar system!”
“Oh my goodness, but he’s precocious! Son, get in the car!”
Eleven years later, as our family stood talking to our favorite first grade teacher and principal after our son’s graduation, I was compelled to make the confession. I was apprehensive because I wasn’t sure how she’d take it, but I felt the air needed to be cleared. After, as I stood there with that puppy dog look of contrition on my face and my wife shooting daggers from her eyes at me for telling, she started laughing. I think after all the years of teaching, this was but another inane story to add to her collection of inane stories. But, I was glad I shared it, anyway. And she said she was glad I shared it, too.
You know, she’s just great that way. I’m so thankful for all the years of friendship. I’m thankful for her patience and understanding. I look forward to many more years of friendship. As long as she can stand me, that is.
It’s as if God said, “Let there be Mama Schne (my nickname for her).” And yeah, she is good.
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