On April 25, 2020, I didn’t know my phone would save these messages or that they’d still mean so much to me years later. But today they popped up in my photo memories—and I remembered the love, the grief, the trying, the tenderness. These weren’t grand moments. They were just human ones. Small threads in the fabric of that strange, heartbreaking, beautiful time.
1. A Text From My Dad
“When I first saw you I knew I wanted to do my best.”
I cried rereading that. I probably cried when he sent it too. My dad has always been steady, loving, present. I was trying to get back into running then, and he was trying to get healthier. We were both finding motivation in each other.
I said I never wanted to disappoint him.
I still don’t.
2. A Message From a Student’s Parent
“You’re all she ever talks about.”
This one split my heart wide open when I first read it. That year, I had an incredible group of kids—smart, wild, kind, messy, magical. We were sent home early because of the pandemic, and I never got to say a proper goodbye.
But this message reminded me that the goodbye didn’t erase the impact.
They remembered. I did too.
3. A Dream I Was Afraid to Ask For
I had this idea: what if I could loop with my class to 5th grade?
I knew them. I loved them. I believed I could help them in ways that a brand-new teacher might not be able to right away. I wrote out my case in a long green text, half-apologizing for even thinking out loud.
But my assistant principal (a badass motherfuckin’ woman who I deeply admire and respect btw) replied with warmth and support:
“I love that you are thinking outside the box!!”
Maybe I didn’t feel so silly for wanting something bold after all. And soon after texting her about it I went ahead and sent a text and a screenshot to my principal. Anyways, I got to loop with my kids from 4th to 5th grade. One of the hardest but also most beautiful years of my life and I will never forget it.
4. A Small Offer That Mattered
Even during COVID lockdowns, I was trying to help however I could. One of my student’s family needed hand sanitizer and tissues, and I said yes.
Simple. Small. Kind.
It reminded me that even when the world feels overwhelming, I still have the ability to make someone’s day a little easier.
April 25, 2020, wasn’t a milestone day. But it was a human one.
A day full of care, connection, hope, and longing.
A day where I was a daughter, a teacher, a friend, a helper.
And I think that’s worth remembering.
Here are some more random photos from around that time. This first one was the last day of school before we never came back because of the covid19 pandemic in 2020. This is a 4th grade student of mine at the time, whom I loved so much, and his little 1st grade sister.
