My circle was at school: I was a
fixture at Kokomo High School for 40 years. I cherish the friendships between
teachers, and custodians, and administrative assistants, and even some
administrators. Some had seen photos of the hub: few would recognize him just
walking down the halls.
Then, there were those who knew us
both professionally: students’ parents would hire Mike; former students would
hire Mike. And, at home I would talk about students, problems I had with them,
funny things that had happened in class. Mike never named his clients: clients
need to be free to tell their lawyer anything; I certainly did not need to know
backstories on my students unless they came to me through school channels.
All too often, some student would
say that his mom or dad or uncle had hired my husband and I could be honestly
surprised. If comment seemed required, I would say, “I hope he was pleased.”
And then I would get either a nod or some version of what an overpaid SOB that
lawyer was. I think my favorite was, “It must be nice, just sitting at a desk,
with people throwing money at you.”
Rarely did these worlds meet. Rarely
but not never: I had one rather dramatic episode where, in a parent conference,
an angry father lunged over the desk at
me and had to be restrained. (Thank you, large-chested principal who was in
attendance.) No, I’m not kidding. Dad claimed that I had lost his son’s
project, just like I had lost an older son’s project AND his wife’s project 20
years before.
For the record, when a student
fails to turn in an important assignment, the
go-to explanation is THE TEACHER LOST IT. As I never took big-point
projects out of my room, not ever, and when accused I would scour every corner,
I knew I had not done this; I still remain flummoxed that the mom had been
doing a slow burn for so many years and had been serving me up at the dinner
table. “We warned our kids about you.”
Sigh.
That particular, rather nasty
encounter had shaken me... overt threats of
physical violence will do that...and I took it home. Because the names didn’t
match, it took a few minutes for Mike to give me a possible explanation: he had
represented a relative who ran out of money and so had paid his fee with his
custom, tricked out, very nice motorcycle. He and his attorney had signed an
agreement that the fee would be paid within the year. The client had some expectation
of finding money to pay the fee and planned to pay but after 2 years and
several contacts, Mike sold the bike. His former client and his extended family
were not pleased. Somehow, they figured I had something to do with this: those
Bolingers just sit at home plotting how to ruin our lives.
And, in our small town, there may
have been other classroom problems that connected with Mike’s practice but none
come to mind. So, the point is that we had a circle of friends who knew one of
us.
But, of course, there were the
Mike and Lynne’s friends. Family, of course. Friends at church. Friends in the
neighborhoods. And during the last 4 years of our marriage, that group grew. And grew close to us.
And, here’s what’s hard right now,
hard for me but something with which I must deal: when I come upon friends who
loved Mike as part of Mike and Lynne…..I sense a sadness, perhaps a renewal of
grief on their part. I am the reminder of what is now lost.
Among strangers, I’m just that
tall lady. But even among school friends who did not know Mike, I’m his widow….
This may be one reason that I’m
sad when I revisit the places we shared and see it in the eyes of those who
loved him. It’s part of the process, difficult for all of us.
My move to the lake and San
Antonio, I have opportunities to make new friends and find new avenues. But I
will miss the dear friends of Mike and Lynne as we navigate a new relationship.
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