After you hit your 30s, death and birth - the cycle of this surreal comic tragedy we call life - come in waves. Just found out another elementary school teacher died after a prolonged struggled with C. I wrote Laura Rae a message 12 days ago after receiving an email about her advanced condition. I dont know if she ever read it. The least I can do is share it so the universe is more aware of her elegant presence and memory: Dear Mrs. Rae, I know you dont remember me, but this is Wajahat Ali, Harker grad from back in the day 94. I was a round, healthy, socially awkward, sweaty, husky-pants wearing kid who was the bane of your dance class existence. I was cursed with 2 left feet and my healthy status prevented me from executing even the most basic of dance moves. In fact, I am/was perhaps living proof that some people are not destined to move their feet/body in a rhyhmic fashion. I write this because despite my severe dancing handicaps you always made the time to make me feel comfortable and were generous and patient with me as I flopped around on the ground. This happened 23 years ago and I still remember it fondly. Life is often measured by the small victories involving the mundane - but that doesnt mean they arent meaningful. I am wishing you well and sending you good vibes all the way from Virginia. With respect, Wajahat
Posted on: Sun, 25 May 2014 07:56:19 +0000
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