"Just counting down the days until summer." - Andy Loeb (August 31, 2009 first day of the school year)
Dear Andy’s Family,
Andy spoke so highly of you. I adored the way he loved you so
much. I am sending you as much strength as I possibly can during this difficult
time.
I have not met anyone who didn't think Andy was awesome. In
one way or another, in a big way or a small way, he left an impression on
people. Students, friends, colleagues…he was adored by so many.
Andy is and will always be remembered.
Love,
Christine
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Dear Andy,
I don’t know how, but I was one of those lucky people who
won the lottery and got to have you for a friend. I am filled with so much
happiness that I was able to know you, have you in my life, have you for my
pal.
During this very difficult time, I am allowing myself a
selfish moment. This letter is mostly about my own feelings.
I am not writing this letter to tell you I am sad. You wouldn't want me to do that. I am writing to tell you I love you.
I first met you at a BBQ in Chris’s backyard just before
school started for my first year of teaching. I was a nervous, new teacher and
all of you were the veteran teachers. When I started talking to you, I predicted
I would love working with you. I was right.
You welcomed me with open arms immediately. You gave me a
book on my first day of teaching (First
Day Jitters) and wrote a sweet note on the inside cover. You often popped into
my classroom after school, sat on my counter and chatted with me about life and
the price of eggs in China. You had such an important role in my journey as a
teacher.
I have so many wonderful memories of you. I am holding on to
those and loving the smiles they bring to my face when I relive them in my
mind. I must remind you of one of my favorites: Remember how I used to enter
the building in the morning and then serenade you with obnoxiously chipper morning
songs? You were HILARIOUSLY grumpy in
the mornings as you told me, “I don’t do mornings.” Your best response to my
morning singing was when you stood in your classroom doorway with an evil look
on your face and immediately turned off the lights when I walked by. I had
tears in my eyes from laughing so hard. I still imagine you in that doorway in
the mornings and smile.
You made me laugh constantly. You made a scene in the staff room every time you filled up your water bottle. I don’t think anyone else
in this world can make me smile just from looking at a water dispenser.
I lost a part of me this weekend when you left this world. Many of us did.
Thankfully, I can still feel your presence everywhere I go.
It helps me to continue with daily life. In one difficult moment during a shopping
outing the other day, I paused, “How are we supposed to do this?” Stacey responded with words I now repeat in my
mind as often as possible, “We have to. It’s what Andy would have wanted us to
do.”
I am closing this letter with a post I left on your facebook
page on your birthday this year. It was Chris’s awesome idea for everyone to
post 20 Random Things I Love about Andy.
Here was my post:
20 Random Things I love
about Andy:
1. His red onesie.
2. His dedication to young adult books and other reading
material.
3. His sudden outburst of his outdoor voice when telling a
joke.
4. His grumpy sense of humor every single morning.
5. His open mindedness.
6. His fascination with mathematical ideas.
7. His beard.
8. His family.
9. His dogs.
10. His passion for teaching and impacting the lives of
children.
11. His dirty white van.
12. His button-up shirts.
13. The fact that we have the same Starbucks coffee mug.
Those are some high quality mugs.
14. His love for writing in composition books. For every
single subject imaginable.
15. His random cracks of inappropriate jokes.
16. His thoughtful advice.
17. His loving and mellow nature.
18. The way he loves his family.
19. Pam.
20. He is my pal.
Love,
Christine
