Talking yesterday about who you might want to eliminate from the world reminds me of the one person in my life who actually sent me death threats: For ten whole months of my second year teaching a young woman I only knew as ‘Kathy’ sent me hate-filled notes in which she said she was going to kill me. They were left on my desk, or on the windshield of my car in the teachers’ parking lot. I saved them for years as well as the rock she threw through the living room window of my apartment two whole towns away. The police could do nothing, they told me.
The funny thing was, she didn’t have me as a teacher; she didn’t even go to the school. I had given her friend an F and that was my crime, though I could do no less, since the child literally never came to class.
This poor Kathy died herself the following year of a heroin overdose.
I haven’t thought of her for years. She doesn’t belong on my radar at all in the way I spoke of yesterday – unless we really are meant to pray for the dead, which I don’t do. For all the Catholic schooling I had as a child I never thought prayers for the dead were necessary. Even as child it seemed to me the living were the ones who needed our powerful positive thoughts.
What do you guys think?
(A little housekeeping note to end with: If you missed the video yesterday it’s here – a snafu caused the first 85 people who came to the blog to miss it. Worth watching such a cute and catchy little production number!