Memories of Auntie Sonja

On the evening of July 5th, I received a call from the daughter of my high school AP English teacher. She was letting me know that her mom had passed away. Knowing how much she meant to me, her family very kindly chose to tell me of her death personally, rather than let me read her obituary in the morning paper.

Sonja Beere and I were rather unlikely friends. We met, after all, when I was her student. But sometimes personalities click, and friendships grow. Her passing has affected me much more than I could've imagined. I am grateful, however, to have a treasure trove of memories. In her honor, I would like to share a few:


What's Phallic? 

Sonja was a fantastic and gifted educator. Her students' papers were returned with copious notes neatly written in the margins. Affirming that our observations were correct, "Yes!" and True!" were common feedback. She treated her students - her kids, as she called us - with respect and maturity.  Which is why it was so funny when, after explaining the symbolism off the Congo River in Heart of Darkness, she was caught off guard by a young man asking what "phallic" meant. After a couple of vague attempts at clarification and growing discomfort, a couple of the guys told the kid they'd explain it after class. Man, was she grateful.

Happy Birthday, Nephew!

I happen to share a birthday with Sonja's brother - a fact she never forgot. On my 18th birthday, in front of the rest of her class, she gave me a present. It was a small stuffed bunny with a package of jelly beans. The next year, she showed up on our doorstep with a bouquet of balloons. Starting on my 20th birthday and continuing all the way through to my last birthday 3-1/2 months ago, she always sent a card with a $20 bill in it. 

You Did WHAT?

For all her ability to make one feel good about oneself, she was the first to self deprecate for a laugh. One day she was eager to share a story with me. She had recently attended the wedding of a former student. It was, she said, the strangest, most casual wedding she'd ever attended. Small - just the wedding party, parents, officiant and her. After the vows were exchanged, the groom approached her, thanking her for attending and for the gift, then meekly asking if she would also be at the wedding the next day, or just at tonight's rehearsal.  I thought we would never stop laughing.

A Part of Our Family.

When I returned to live in Salt Lake, Sonja and her husband, Glen, became regulars at my parents' home for holiday dinners. We loved having them, and know they loved being there. It wasn't a big, fat Greek dinner if the Beeres weren't there!

In Greek tradition, when someone you love passes, you toast their psyche - their soul. At her viewing, I quietly recited the first line of Chaucer's Canterbury Tales in Middle English, as she had taught me, and I kissed her forehead for the last time. That night my parents, sister and I toasted Sonja's psyche with a shot of Dad's homemade mastikha, which had quickly become her favorite beverage whenever she was at the Katis house...just like everyone else in our family.

Sonja Beere, you will always have a special place in my heart. (Yes! True!)