This week at work has been a strange one. I can't really write about it on here, because you never know do you if the person involved might read what you write ? Suffice to say that its been disconcerting and not too pleasant. I hope that I have been a good person. I think I have.
One of the strange things that has run alongside my week at work has been memories. I have thought a lot this week about my friend Jonnie. I found myself crouched down by the childrens drawers, putting letters away, and thinking of her brought hot tears to my eyes.
It was through Jonnie that I got my job. When she fell ill with breast cancer the school needed someone to fill in for her. I was the fill in. That was 4 years ago on the 15th December. I have never met anyone like Jonnie. She was good and kind, funny and irreverent, with a heart as big as her smile. She wore her faded old Disney t-shirt and open sandals and she made you feel like you were important in the world. She had a gift with children and knew how to make them feel brave, knew how to make them laugh.
I can still hear her soft Scottish voice, the way she said Ports Mowth instead of Portsmuth like everyone else. When I'm alone in a corridor at school I can almost feel her giggling behind me and slapping my backside, or singing " I'm a little tea pot short and stout ".
She was absolutely full of life, even to the last. I can see her in her sick bed smiling at the bubbles from the bubble machine her son had just bought her. Its just over a year since she died and I just miss her. So much.