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Whoa.
So my favorite religion teacher from high school - the one we always thought was gay, except for his tres adorable crush on the female English teacher across the hall, the one who brought his dog to visit us, the one who spent half the semester showing us movies when I took Death & Dying with him, because his sister had just died a few months before - passed away. I could've sworn he was in his late thirties when I took classes, but we was fifty-four. Throat cancer, horrible.
Turns out he was gay; his partner was at the funeral, and my best friend's high school boyfriend's mom, a relative and our source of information, said she saw him there but didn't talk to him, because it was "too surreal". As Iulia said: Gah! Catholics!
Bye, Mr. Wise. I can't really compute that you're gone, that you're anywhere but Room 110, giving pop quizzes when the girls don't pay attention to Peter and Paul, or calling Nefertiti a hussy in the middle of The Ten Commandments. But I'm sure you're someplace much, much better.
Turns out he was gay; his partner was at the funeral, and my best friend's high school boyfriend's mom, a relative and our source of information, said she saw him there but didn't talk to him, because it was "too surreal". As Iulia said: Gah! Catholics!
Bye, Mr. Wise. I can't really compute that you're gone, that you're anywhere but Room 110, giving pop quizzes when the girls don't pay attention to Peter and Paul, or calling Nefertiti a hussy in the middle of The Ten Commandments. But I'm sure you're someplace much, much better.