Back to Work

I started back to work on January 31^st, the first time since my mom died a week ago, though it seems like a year. That’s what time is like when someone dies. Everyone goes on about their lives as if nothing has happened when your world has changed forever.

I knew that returning to tutoring would be good for me for several reasons. First, I love what I do, and it would force me to focus on something other than my mom being gone. Second, I’m self-employed, running my own tutoring business since 2002. If I don’t work, I don’t get paid. Finally, I learned that I must keep moving forward from my husband’s death. The grief will be there when I’m done working.

I felt numb as I prepped for my algebra student, reviewing the concepts so that I would be prepared. Unfortunately, grief causes my brain to be foggy, and I have to be more focused to retain information that would be easy under normal circumstances. 

I’ve taken naps since my children were born 32 years ago. I still do, as it’s a way to reboot my brain for the rest of the day. Before my mom died, I would lose track of time and have to squeeze a quick nap in. Now I have alarms set for when to rest and get up for tutoring.

The first two days have gone well. I’m gentle with myself if I make mistakes with my high school math students and then find the right solution. For example, I printed out the instructions for 4 problems for an online homework assignment. When my student and I worked on the problems, the program wouldn’t let him do the problems because of my mistake. So I emailed the teacher, explained what happened, and the instructor told me how the student could answer the questions.

Another treat was the return of a student I had first worked with when he was four years old. He’s now in 3^rd grade and just as charming. I haven’t seen him since the beginning of the pandemic, and it was so wonderful to be tutoring him again. His mom told me he would ask about me, remembering me more for the chocolate chip cookies I would share with him than teaching him his ABCs. I did make a fresh batch of cookies last night to keep the tradition alive.

When mom was still able to, she would repeat over and over how proud she was of me and how I reinvented myself. She reminded me that I could have given up after Mike died, but I kept creating new ways to live my life and be creative. As I prepared for my students, I could hear her voice cheering me on. This grief journey will have many ups and downs, but my mom’s pride and love will live in my heart forever.