Words from another..

It is 11 years today, that Eliyah left the earthly world.. The pain does not end, you, (I) learn to live/maneuver/deal/ignore sometimes/move through it. Grief is still and I suppose will always be a very unwelcomed visitor. So today, I will share instead of some profound words that I just don’t have in me today a letter from one of his teachers. My prayer is that you can be inspired, and know that you just never know who’s life you may impact.

Dear Linell Family:

I did not speak with you last year when we lost Eliyah. I wanted to call your family personally that terrible week, but knew that while my words would be appreciated, they would perhaps be diluted by the myriad of condolences that surely were heaped upon your family by the endless stream of those that loved that remarkable kid. That wasn’t good enough, because Eliyah had made such a profound impression on me and my class. I also feared that I would not be able to keep my composure. So I held off.

When I arrived back to my classroom on Monday, I looked up on the board at the front of my classroom at Eliyah’s picture and thought of the devastating loss to your family, Golden Valley, and the community that his passing brought. I wondered how your family has carried on under such duress and pain. I am quite certain that memories of your son are still your first and last thought of the day–particularly last fourth of July. I realized that while the whole country celebrated, your family would be overcome by his absence once again.

From the first day Eliyah arrived in my classroom, I knew that this big, outgoing, lovable young man would bring even more fun and joy to my classroom than I could possibly produce alone. I knew this because his attitude and demeanor was–from day one–nothing but kindness and smiles and laughter. I don’t believe that he had a cruel bone in his body. Eliyah was an expert at making people feel comfortable. I always got a kick from the way that he would use his charm and good humor to sidetrack my inquiry about his work when I occasionally would catch him off-task. Of course, if he was off task, it meant that he was joking around with one of his fellow chem students, making them smile, too. You MUST be fantastic parents, because in a world where so many kids have lost an understanding of the importance of personal values, thoughtfulness and empathy for others, Eliyah was a gentle, kind-hearted soul that took personal responsibility for his actions, and did so unhesitatingly. That kind of life view only comes from being raised in a close and caring family.

If I could speak to that wonderful kid one more time, I’d tell him how he made an indelible mark in my life. I’d tell him how profoundly sad the end of his life would make us all. I’d tell him that I would miss him and that the world desperately needed more people like him. I’d tell him to finish his homework.

Eliyah’s influence will stay with me, because I cannot help but incorporate his memory into the collection of nearly 20 years worth of my most beloved students, against which I compare all others. I hope that your family remains strong and steadfast, and I hope that with time, the pain dulls and only the joy remains.

With profound appreciation,

Gary S. Rubens

Gary S. Rubens, M.Ed.

Chemistry, Biology &

Earth Science Instructor

Golden Valley High School

Visibility of my Soul

Today can’t stop. It’s like being on a never ending carousel. You get on and the ride goes up and down, round and round. The attendant has left and you have no choice but to continue. There are 365 days of the year, (or add one more for Leap year). I have had times where I have cringed certain days. Days that I just want to skip right over. July 4th is now a bittersweet day for me. I’m on that carousel. Horse up is the wonderful memories he brings me. The utter joy I have of the happier days in my life. I can still see his face and hear his voice the night I last saw him. Those are the “horse highs” on the ride. The “Horse lows” is him not being here to celebrate with me. I have the horrible complex catch 22. I’m taken back to the my pregnancy and the day he was born to wanting to hug him, see him, hear him…. Oh man, The elation of that day. My first baby, The anticipation of holding my son. Him being a holiday baby to the now remembering that he’s not here, but now resides in Heaven. The constant round and round makes me dizzy. Up, down, up, down, round and round… And someone please turn off that creepy music.. It’s supposed to remind you of happy childhood days, but I’d rather hear a classic R&B jam from the 90’s. Today is a tricky day…

This is what I see now.. July 4, 1996 – January 19, 2013. 16 years of life. And every year is the same now, I add another year. He would be 24. Every year I ask the same questions according to that age..This time it’s What would he be doing now? Working? Still in college? Would he have a girlfriend? What would he look like? Yep, I wonder about it all, and it’s never going to stop….Those wonderings will continue for the rest of my natural life. And it’s ok. I’m not sharing because it’s a problem, it’s my reality.

Are there birthdays in Heaven? Is there any recognition? I’d like to imagine that there are for just a moment. I close my eyes and envision not birthday cakes, not party favors, but music and dancing. I see our loved ones looking at us and saying a prayer that we will be ok as we remember them on the day they were born. My dad told me about a dream he had of Eliyah. He saw him sitting on a very bright street corner playing his trumpet. He said he had a look on his face that embodied more happiness than he had ever seen. My father then went on to say that his look gave him peace that Eliyah was doing just fine. I can’t help but have the same vision. Eliyah left this earth 7 years ago and I have yet to have a dream about him, or talk to him in a dream. But I could see him thru the lens of my father’s dream. However on his birthday I picture him celebrating with Jesus. Playing his trumpet for him. I talk to him always and today I would ask of him to remind Jesus of my prayer to make this day less heavy for me. To shine on me in a very special way because my heart hurts….

I have/had a video of Eliyah playing happy birthday on his trumpet to me. I say have/had because thru much searching I still can’t find it. I can see what he had on, where he stood, and his big smile of joy afterwards, when I remember it. But I still can’t find it. It bothers me.. It was so personal. And because he’s not here I grieve it’s whereabouts… Had to bring it up because it’s in my thoughts, but I’m not going to dwell on it any further today.

I write and share with the heart of transparency. I want people to know that broken crayons still color. That it is ok to share the broken pieces, the broken moments, the broken dreams gone unfulfilled. This is an unthinkable journey, yet here I am. By the grace of God I can share with all of you. My heart is to encourage, uplift, and to inspire. Happy birthday Eliyah. You’ve inspired me, and through your life gave me purpose to pursue a life worth living. Thank you Eliyah for I know even now there is value in each and every struggle and pain. Your life pushes me forward to manage said pain and to complete what God has called me to do!! I love you forever my son.