The Turquoise Ocean Waters

Written by Ms. Berman, in Honor of Susan Garner

On my third glass of iced tea in an airport bar, starting to fade, my friend Heidi whipped out her camera insistent that I relive my frolicking moments in the turquoise waters of St. Maarten.  The liberation was instantaneous.  Just hours prior, after a full day of traveling, we were delayed at the last stretch of our journey at LAX, when the pilot of our airplane could not be found.  "Please, I begged the customer service agent, you have to get me on the next available flight; I am going to a memorial at La Jolla Shores in San Diego and it ends at sunset."  The young man tried to work with me, but the computer kept rejecting the request.  Customers noticed tears welling in my eyes and offered to give up their seats, but the stand-by list was rapidly growing.  I had to step back and accept my destiny... knowing there would be a reason for this turn of events, but not yet understanding.

Fixated on the spectacular pictures captured on camera, I thought about Mrs. G, and her memorial that was occurring at that precise moment.  I remembered our last conversation, standing in her front yard following a Teen Life Choices retreat:  "Your son is going to go far in life," I said as I hugged her good bye.    He is a genius you know.  They are the hardest kids to raise." 

"Thank you so much for your kind words, Ms. Berman.  You have no idea how much your reassurance means to me," she replied.  I was only being honest, I thought, as I drove off that Sunday afternoon. 

My reminiscing ended when the young waitress at the restaurant bar approached, asking if there was anything else we needed.  Not an unusual question, but as  I took the time to really look into her eyes, I saw an entire story there.  After teaching for so many years, that happens sometimes, but it is normally after working with a student for awhile.  "Where are you going to school?" I asked her.  She looked at me and hesitated.  I could see that she wanted to talk, but she wasn't sure what my agenda was.  And then the words just popped out...  words from the heart.  "You have a way about you," I said.  "I have been a high school teacher for a long time and I can tell that you are going to go far in life."  Such a random comment... she could have thought I was a nut and just walked away, but she didn't.  She proceeded to talk to Heidi and me, telling us how she had lived through a traumatic experience that had set her back and she was ready to go to college now, but needed someone to help her along.  She then asked for my email address, and wondered if I could be her mentor.  It was all very surreal.

When my plane landed in San Diego, there was an email waiting for me on my cell phone.  It was from my new mentee.  She said that I was the first person to ever tell her that she could make it in college.  Words I have heard so many times before, but they cut to my core every time.  I told her my mother, the college counselor, would work with her on the college process, Heidi could provide her with some therapy, and I could be her online mentor.  The complete package.  All because our plane was delayed, a life will be changed.  But it wasn't until I got home, processing my disappointment over having missed the memorial, that it hit me.  The words that I spoken to the young woman in the bar were the same last words that I had said to Mrs. G.   Both conversations focused upon succeeding in life.  Both were intended to cast forth comfort and motivation.  So although I couldn't be at La Jolla Shores saying my proper farewell,  I was opening a door for a young woman in need.  That was exactly how Mrs. G would have wanted it.  That was the gracious, loving, selfless woman whom she was.  This serendipitous occurrence was an offering of the gift of life in honor of Mrs. G.  A lover of beauty, she would have understood, more than most, that this entire interchange was inspired by the turquoise ocean waters off of the quaint little island of St. Maarten.