RIP

I remember last December 26. My grandfather’s birthday is the 27th, so we were driving down to Pittsburgh to see him. I was texting this girl I liked, when out of the blue, she told me that our middle school art teacher’s wife had just found him hanging in his art studio. I immediately got my mom to turn around the car and go home. A year later, I still can’t believe he’s gone. He was the most wonderful man I ever had the privilege to know. I remember how, on the first day of class each year, he would do magic tricks for us. He would even balance a stool on his chin, I swear. He used to always “whistle through his ears”. My gullible 6th-grade mind thought it was the greatest thing ever, but at the end of 7th grade, after months of asking him how he did it, he said it took 3 things: the ability to wiggle your ears, the ability to whistle without moving your mouth, and the ability to lie to a room full of children. He was so funny. He always had the best one-liners. I suck so bad at art, but he’d always look at what I drew like it was the next Mona Lisa. At the end of 6th grade, we got all of our artwork back. I made a beeline for the trash can, but he blocked me and made me keep it. When we left class, I tossed it in the nearest can. I hate myself for that now. He was just so nice, so cool, so smart. They held a memorial service at the middle school. His two kids, one a toddler and one kindergarten-age, were running around the place. They didn’t even get what was happening. His friends and family all shared stories about him. The last guy to go up was one of his teacher buddies and my old homeroom teacher. I’ll never forget what he said. “Teachers, a lot of kids don’t like to go to school. Big surprise. But they need us more than ever. I’ve seen a lot of kids wandering the streets at night in his neighborhood, passing his house. Middle school is a scary and confusing place. They used to have someone who could help them and guide them through all that. But now he’s gone.” RIP. You are definitely missed.