Mrs. Lachman

I remember that voice like I last heard it yesterday, and seeing her face a second later clinched it, which is noteworthy for someone like me who has a hard time recalling much of anything.  Right away I knew that the woman who walked in to Joe’s Peking Duck House last night was Mrs. Lachman, my 25 year-old son’s elementary school teacher-turned his middle-school tutor. It had been about 15 years since I had seen her and yet seconds after I said, “Mrs. Lachman?  I am Michael Heiman’s mom…you were his teacher,” that special feeling I got every time she came over to my house returned, this time tears welling up in my eyes, and I was just hoping they didn’t start rolling down my face.  Pathetic, I know, but accurate, nonetheless.

For years, Mrs. Lachman came to my house to help Mike, but I am certain that she made more of a difference in my life than in his. Yes, she helped him to perform well in class, and this led to his feeling pretty good about himself, both of which we all know are critical for the optimal mindset of an adolescent…yadda yadda…but it was her commitment to my child back then that I find so compelling, even 15 years after the fact.

I will be the first to admit that I have always parented best with assistance—enlisting the expertise and grip of a select grouping of special folks I’ve met along the way—and once on my team, that person is a VIP in my world, for life.