Just had an encounter at the library.Sometimes I forget about the intangible rewards of teaching, and then I'm reminded in small ways; quiet like a hug in a library.
I was working at the reception desk and this gentleman came in and asked if Carl Clements was my dad. I told him "yes" and he said he had heard at a wedding recently that he had died. It was [name redacted]. Remember him? I totally remember that name, and he said his siblings had Dad, too, and he was such a great guy.
He actually got choked up and asked me if he could have a hug, and said he just wanted to tell me what a good teacher and person Dad was. As he was leaving he was like "I'm sorry, I'm kind of shook up". And he said Dad talked about you and me. Anyhow, just thought I'd tell you because you would probably remember the [redacted] family better than I do. Hope all is well!
Occasional Holy Man and Luthier Who Offers Stray, Provocative, and Insouciant Thoughts About Religion, Archaeology, Human Foible, Surfing, and Interesting People. Thalassophile. Nemesis of all Celebrities [except for Chuck Norris]. He Lives Vicariously Through Himself. He has a Piece of Paper That Proves He's Laird of Glencoe.
Monday, October 3, 2016
It Seems That Dad is Going to Visit Us Yet Again This Week
An afternoon e-mail from my sister: