I’ve been wanting/needing to tell this story for a few months but just haven’t had the emotional strength to tell it until now. I’m still not sure I could do it orally without crying so for now, writing will have to suffice.

My dad passed away suddenly on February 4th. He hadn’t been in great health but was home, functioning normally until suddenly he wasn’t. My mom found him already passed on that Sunday morning and the following week was a mix of sorrow and boredom. I didn’t go to work for the week. I had a mild cases of Covid at the time as well so I couldn’t have gone even if I wanted to. Between Sunday and Friday, we made the arrangements, ordered the flowers, spent time with family and friends, and waited. We weren’t able to have the visitation at the funeral home until Friday evening and the funeral Saturday morning.

My dad had been a high school physical education teacher for 30 years He also coached boys varsity soccer and wrestling for his entire career. Many of the people who stopped by the house that week were his former athletes. For those unfamiliar with that lifestyle, bonds are strong and lasting. Teachers have an impact for sure but coaches take it to a whole other level. As the only daughter, I spent my life in rarified air, having dozens of big brothers over the years, always being looked out for and protected. Those lifetime bonds extended to me, my younger brother and my mom as well.

The visitation at the funeral home was well attended, so much so the local police had to put an officer outside to help direct traffic. It didn’t hurt that some of the police officers had been my students over the years as well. Soccer players and wrestlers came from all over, some traveling from other states just to attend for a few minutes.

The next morning as my immediate family arrived for the service, a man was waiting. When I was introduced, I was dumbstruck. This man was like a celebrity to me as I had grown up with his pictures on my dad’s trophy wall. He had wrestled for my dad in the early 1970s and had flown in from Michigan for the service. My entire family was in awe that my dad had meant that much to him. he came back to the house for the repast afterwards and regaled everyone with stories of my dad back then. Many laughs were shared, as well as tears. Totally appropriate as my dad was known for his sense of humor.

But that wasn’t what I’ll remember most about that day. When we got up from the service at the funeral home that morning to walk across the street to the columbarium for the interment of my dad’s ashes, there was a homeless man lingering outside. I was a little curious but we proceeded over, as did he. The service was short and I watched as the man walked to the ashes, stood for a minute, then wandered off. He never spoke to anyone.

When we all went back to my childhood home for some food, I asked my dad’s former athletes if they knew who he was. They did. He had been a troubled student back in the 1970s that my dad tried to help. Tried to encourage him to play a sport. Was nice to him. But it never quite worked and the man has lived a difficult life. The guys said he lives somewhere in the woods outside of town. How this man knew that my dad had passed is a mystery to me. But somehow he knew and was drawn to pay his respects. A few days later when my mom was looking through the guest sign in book, the very last name was his.

If you are a teacher or coach and ever doubt your impact on students, don’t. While my dad will never know that this man found a way to say goodbye to him, my family knows and it meant the world. I always knew my dad was a father figure for many of his athletes but I never knew how deeply it affected some. Hang in there. I know our jobs of teaching and coaching are challenging and sometimes you wonder if you are doing any good. You are and you have to understand that you might never know how much.

Well, I couldn’t get through writing this without crying either.