My Elementary School Nurse, Thelma

When you’re 8 years old and mommy-clingy, sometimes you don’t really want to be at school. Somehow, you learn through the grapevine that, if you let the teacher know you feel like you have to throw up, there’s a nurse’s office where you can go to lie down on a green naugahyde “bed” for a while.  The thought is that if you rest for a bit, you’ll recuperate enough to return to the rigors of third grade studies.  Even at 8, you’ll take what you can get.  If you’re lucky, the school has a nurse who really loves kids and she seems almost like a mommy away from home.  48 years later, I had the extreme pleasure to bump into my elementary school nurse, who had been so kind to me back then.  In her 90s now, and sharp as a tack, she was as lovely as I remembered, and as kind.  And when I told her about my memories of her, and thanked her for being so nice to me, and confessed that I’d mostly faked it, she smiled a pretty smile I remembered vividly.  Though I’m sure I was one of thousands she’d cared for, she said, “I knew when you were faking it.”  Rest in peace, Thelma, and God Bless You.