It's funny how people are placed in your life in the strangest of ways.
I met Bobi because I became friends with her sweet daughter while at a sleepover back in 7th grade. Laura sang that night and I was in awe of her talent. As time went on, our friendship grew giving me a chance to get to know her mom, Bobi and the rest of her loving family.
I met Bobi because I became friends with her sweet daughter while at a sleepover back in 7th grade. Laura sang that night and I was in awe of her talent. As time went on, our friendship grew giving me a chance to get to know her mom, Bobi and the rest of her loving family.
It's funny how much of an impact one person can make in your life when you take the time to sit and reflect.
Bobi encouraged me in high school at sporting events, student council activities, or just in visiting at her home. She encouraged me as a young teacher, counseling me on my decision to work with certain colleagues she had once had at Mountain View. She listened to me when I struggled in the classroom, be it with challenging kids, terrible parents, or just good old-fashioned CCSD drama, always uplifting and positive. She helped me as a substitute in my classroom on many occasions. She would leave me notes expressing how exceptional my lesson plans were, admiring my classrooms management that was in place, the love my students had for me and their overall engagement (even with a sub), my organization, etc. On top of all that, she would grade any papers she could get her hands on, just to help me out. If she was in my school subbing for a friend of mine, she would come in my room just to watch me teach. Always smiling and praising. She made me feel like I was the best teacher she'd ever seen, and that I was destined for greatness.
She continued her genuine interest in my life as a mother. She would call me just to check in on me. Curious how was I handling full-time motherhood, being outside of the classroom, being a single parent basically while my Sugar endured the rigors of dental school, and so on. If I didn't get a chance to chat with her, she would leave me messages, voice and text, expressing concern for my well-being along with letting me know what fun things were happening around Las Vegas valley. She would send me fun ideas to do at home with my babies to help them learn and grow and comment again with excitement and praise at the fun things I had done that were posted on Facebook. She invited me to share a museum pass with her, pretending I was her daughter-in-law, because we were friends. Good friends that had regular play-dates with our children, hers being her grandchildren.
She dropped in on multiple occasions to see how I was doing when I was stuck on bed rest with Jocelyn for 6 months. She would come over and read to Afton and Jack, bring activities for them to do, ask me about how I am surviving all this, all the while encouraging me to be strong. Reminding me that his was only a phase.
She gave me advice and peace of mind on multiple occasions as I grew more and more frustrated with this new lifestyle our family had accepted in joining the Navy. She was chock-full of insight, tips, tricks, and resources about embracing military life and the adventures it will bring. She was a counselor, reminding me to "Blossom where planted." She was an amazing person and always made me feel loved.
It's funny how you treasure the simple moments and memories you have with them, once they're gone.
Because of the love this woman showed me since I was a teenager, I was so glad to spend time with her any chance I could as she was fighting this terrible disease. She was always willing to let me see her, warning me that she had lost her hair, she was bloated, she had lost weight, she was this or that. And I didn't care about how she looked. All I cared about was being near her. Hearing her once again share wisdom, encouragement, love for her family, stories from her past, and advice.
I was always so impressed with her confidence that she was going to beat this. It never got her down. She was a fighter until the very end and I add that to the list of many reasons why I admire my friend Bobi so much.
I remember sitting with her, bringing her a healthy lunch of course, as she was receiving chemo one afternoon. She talked about her kids, asked about mine, and under her breath whispered to me, "A lot of these folks aren't going to make it. They have given up. It breaks my heart but they just don't have the fight I have. I wish I could share it with them, but I need all I can get." I cry as I sit thinking back on that day. I knew she would beat it. She had before. She would do it again.
But months continued to pass and this cancer just wouldn't quit. Doctor visits and tests results never seeming to hear the good news that she had hoped for. That so many had hoped for. I began to realize that this battle was too big. I continued to hope and pray, but my faith dwindled, and I am angry at myself for letting that happen. Knowing this, I began to relish every word I could get from her even more than I once had, which is hard to believe was even possible. As time went on, her words became less and less, as the pain became too much. Her texts became less frequent, her messages were more sparse. During my last few visits with her in the hospital & hospice, there was not much communication at all. But the last two coherent things she managed to say to me were, "See you soon," and "I meant every word I said about you." She still had unwavering faith, along with confidence in me.
Bobi encouraged me in high school at sporting events, student council activities, or just in visiting at her home. She encouraged me as a young teacher, counseling me on my decision to work with certain colleagues she had once had at Mountain View. She listened to me when I struggled in the classroom, be it with challenging kids, terrible parents, or just good old-fashioned CCSD drama, always uplifting and positive. She helped me as a substitute in my classroom on many occasions. She would leave me notes expressing how exceptional my lesson plans were, admiring my classrooms management that was in place, the love my students had for me and their overall engagement (even with a sub), my organization, etc. On top of all that, she would grade any papers she could get her hands on, just to help me out. If she was in my school subbing for a friend of mine, she would come in my room just to watch me teach. Always smiling and praising. She made me feel like I was the best teacher she'd ever seen, and that I was destined for greatness.
She continued her genuine interest in my life as a mother. She would call me just to check in on me. Curious how was I handling full-time motherhood, being outside of the classroom, being a single parent basically while my Sugar endured the rigors of dental school, and so on. If I didn't get a chance to chat with her, she would leave me messages, voice and text, expressing concern for my well-being along with letting me know what fun things were happening around Las Vegas valley. She would send me fun ideas to do at home with my babies to help them learn and grow and comment again with excitement and praise at the fun things I had done that were posted on Facebook. She invited me to share a museum pass with her, pretending I was her daughter-in-law, because we were friends. Good friends that had regular play-dates with our children, hers being her grandchildren.
She gave me advice and peace of mind on multiple occasions as I grew more and more frustrated with this new lifestyle our family had accepted in joining the Navy. She was chock-full of insight, tips, tricks, and resources about embracing military life and the adventures it will bring. She was a counselor, reminding me to "Blossom where planted." She was an amazing person and always made me feel loved.
I remember sitting with her, bringing her a healthy lunch of course, as she was receiving chemo one afternoon. She talked about her kids, asked about mine, and under her breath whispered to me, "A lot of these folks aren't going to make it. They have given up. It breaks my heart but they just don't have the fight I have. I wish I could share it with them, but I need all I can get." I cry as I sit thinking back on that day. I knew she would beat it. She had before. She would do it again.
This little quote attached to a little paper sack of every kind of Skittle ever made!
I lost my friend today and I am sad. I sit here crying as I type this, but all the while knowing she is in a better place. She is no longer in pain. Her Heavenly Father needed her more in heaven than we did down here. He has great plans in store for her and she is excited to be able to move freely, smile, and be her happy, healthy self once again. I know she will watch over her family, and I think even me. I would like to think that I am special in that way, but honestly, that's not true. I have read over every kind word that has been said by her family and friends on Facebook and they all feel the same as me. She made every person she met/knew feel special, because she genuinely loved them. I am a better person just from knowing her. I hope to follow her example.
I will never forget my friend Bobi. I hope that she knew how much she meant to me and she felt of my love for her.
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