A tribute to Kendra from her last student

I had not seen Ms. Kendra the weekend before she died because I went out of town. The last couple of times I saw her, I sensed she was not well and I desperately wanted to do something special for her. She was very regretful of the fact that, like her children, her grandchildren would grow up without their grandmother. “I am the last one left, ” she told me during one of our first visits. The moment I found out about her death, I felt like I failed her.

Our last visit

I spent time in Michaels prior to visiting Ms. Kendra because she still did not have everything she needed to needlepoint. Reflecting back, I see her interest had started waning even though she still had the most beautiful smile each time I walked in the room. The only one who brought a bigger smile to her face was my husband, Rob.

Rob came with me the last time I saw her because I had gotten all kinds of materials to make her needlepoint experience wonderful. If I dare say, my Ms. Kendra was flirting a bit with MY husband. At one time she was in an uncomfortable position in her chair and she didn’t seem to mind that he made things worse for her because he did not know how to adjust her chair. Throughout our visit, she asked Rob to help her with things (instead of me).

While her face was beaming, I couldn’t help but notice the portable oxygen tank, her slight agitation and her disinterest in the embroidery that I bought for her. “You can do it,” she said. I had gotten pillows for her to embroider for her grandchildren. I did not know how to embroider/needlepoint (whatever it was that I got). I concluded that I needed to have someone make the pillows or teach me how to do it. Before our visit ended, I promised I would bring someone back to teach us (me) how to embroider the pillows. However, when I left the facility, I told my husband I felt I needed to get the pillows made quickly.

What I came to know about Ms. Kendra

From the beginning, I never looked at Ms. Kendra as a patient. As a volunteer, it was not my duty to medically care for her so I had the freedom of just making a connection. Our connection was instantaneous. Our visits were very intimate and special to me. I would share my pictures with her and she would tell me all kinds of ideas of how I could turn my love for the camera into a business.

In one of our first visits, I shared how I was committed to living a purposeful life. I told her about my blog and how I resisted God’s call for me to bring inspiration, healing and love into the life of others. I told her that God shut me down and things started to fall apart when I continued to resist God’s will. She told me that she wished she had done more in her life instead of work. I assured her that from what she told me about her life, she gave plenty to this world.

See Ms. Kendra was a teacher. She told me how she decided to start teaching special education not long before she became ill. She expressed how rewarding teaching special education was. She went on to tell me she received a lot more from the students than she gave to them. She shared many touching stories about her teaching career. Everything she shared demonstrated that she was a teacher who put her heart and soul into her students. She did the same to me.

Though she struggled with her own mortality, she took the time to give me insights on the lessons she learned in her life. When she would reflect on her life, she never boasted. She looked at what she had not done rather than the wonderful things she had accomplished.

• She felt she spent so much time working; I saw a woman who spent her time giving. Being a teacher is not a job—it’s a calling.
• She felt both guilt and sorrow about not being there to guide her two precious grandchildren throughout their childhood. Yet I could see that her legacy and love for her grandchildren would live on past her death.
• She wanted to do more. I saw a woman who gave more than enough.

Ms. Kendra was a teacher right to the end

I started this blog letting you know how my initial feeling was that I failed her. I wanted to make sure she knew that she mattered! I wanted to make something special for her two young grandchildren because they were special to her. My mind just swirled like a tornado. I thought about her two children and what they must be going through. I thought about the grandchildren who would be too young to remember her. I thought it was too soon. How ironic? While she was in hospice, I did not see a dying woman; I saw a new connection—a friend, a teacher, a person who mattered.

It did not take me long to see that while I was the volunteer bringing comfort a hospice patient, I was the one who received the service. As I reflected on the time I spent with Ms. Kendra, I learned plenty. The biggest lesson was to give myself more consideration. See goodness and inspiration come from the ordinary things. What matters is what we do in our everyday life. It is not the big moments that give the most impact; it is the ordinary that brings us the extraordinary.

Thank you, Ms. Kendra

Ms. Kendra lived purpose in her everyday life. She nurtured and educated children. I knew Kendra for only a short period of time. In that short span we built a friendship. Within that short time, I became special. Ms. Kendra was a teacher until the end. I am special because I was her last student. Rest in heaven Ms. Kendra.