I don’t think you fear your friends. I feared Mrs. Moore in a good way, the same way I fear my own mother, my aunts, and uncles. Fear might not be the best word choice but ever since Mrs. Moore died, I am at a loss of words.
When you are lucky enough to be raised in a East Texas, many of you know you have a lot of “play” mommas, cousins, sisters and family. Mrs. Moore was one of my play mommas.
Here is the rub. I know Mrs. Moore knew how much I loved her. I know she knows what a big role she played in my life. I remember being no older than four at her house and going over flashcards with her and her daughter. However, I don’t think I told her straight out how much I admired her, feared her, respected her, and loved her.
The last time I saw Mrs. Moore, she told me how she was determined to keep her mind sharp. She was always sharp. She was very active in the community, her church and taught a whole slew of pimply faced naive teenagers. She taught typing and was very strict. She was one of those teachers that everyone knew you didn’t mess with but everyone still liked her.
I regret how selfish I have been. I am so consumed with taking care of my mom, being a mother and wife, I hardly ever get out in my community. Mrs. Moore lived less than 3 mins away from me but it seems like I never had time to go visit. I regret it deeply.
I wish I would have made time out of my busy schedule to go see her regularly. I don’t understand why I didn’t. I loved her so much. Once she told me it was okay that we didn’t see each other as much anymore. She understood how busy life could be. This is the one time I am going to say my friend, Mrs. Moore was wrong.
I have a lot more family and play family that I need to go out of my way to see and tell them how much I love them and appreciate them. Mrs. Moore is still teaching me lessons. You can’t just love someone, you have to tell them, show them, and even prove it.
Even if you didn’t know Mrs. Moore, you can share in the lesson she taught me with her passing. When was the last time you called your loved ones and said, “need anything?” When was the last time you picked up an extra dessert for the lady that helped raise you? Sometimes the littlest gestures are the ones that are remembered the most.
In honor of Mrs. Moore, I will end this with the first sentence my teacher, my friend, my loved one taught me: The quick red fox jumped over the lazy brown dog.
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You may reach MaLu Bradford Beyonce at email@example.com.