A FAINT WATERMARK ON MY SOUL

I remember the day all too well,
As if it were only yesterday.
Yet, it happened forty years ago,
I was a sophomore in high school.

It was one of the coldest mornings,
South Florida faced in a while.
A sky painted in a cobalt blue,
With not even one cloud to be seen.

We were just high school kids way back then,
Not the middle-aged adults we became.
Chasing teachers who were the same age,
Quietly questioning their purpose.

The bell rang for early dismissal,
Another round of mid-terms finished.
Minds still buzzing with half-formed answers,
Pencils cooled as our hands set them down.

A favorite popular teacher,
Asked some of us to join her outside.
We spilled into the north parking lot,
Stood close for an impromptu lesson.

Pointing slightly to the northwest sky,
We squinted into the sky’s brightness.
She shared what we were about to see,
History about to be witnessed.

A sliver of a bright orange glow,
Streaking a white arc in its pathway.
Like a brush tip loaded with fresh paint.
Just waiting to paint a blank canvas.

We watched the Space Shuttle Challenger,
Climbing and speeding towards its orbit.
Like our teenage dreams of tomorrow,
Racing to paint life’s canvas today.

We cheered our brave heroes onward,
Without knowing, they raced to heaven.
Their fate sealed, January, twenty-eighth,
Nineteen eighty-six Anno Domini.

Reminding me, days when teachers asked,
Who will you become when you grow-up?
With excitement, I shared, a teacher,
As I was blessed with many great ones. 

When they named the first civilian,
Became a role model to follow.
A teacher named, Christa McAuliffe,
Only made chasing my dream real.

I recall, a teenage boy staring,
Upward to the night’s heavenly sky.
Hearing her enthusiastic words,
Exclaiming, “We’re reaching for the stars!”

We watched a scar of white plume follow,
Against the perfect cloudless blue sky.
Leaving our thoughts stranded somewhere there,
But definitely not here either.

Some of us gasped, others stayed silent,
We knew something went terribly wrong.
When asked, heaven refused to answer,
The sky’s permanent unforgiving view.

Our teacher’s voice took a moment, paused,
Quivered as she recited a prayer.
Slowly, we returned to our classroom,
She then tried to find words; silence spoke.

With no answers to what was witnessed,
She tuned the TV to local news.
The information came in pieces,
Like a puzzle waiting to be solved.

The room became earsplitting silent,
As if the world stood still and listened.
The news confirmed what we all just saw,
Challenger and crew met its demise.

Watching history before our eyes,
Suddenly, we seemed to feel older.
A day forever scarred in our minds,
Even when we took a step forward.

Watching from the shadows of my past,
I chose which memories filled my soul.
I think of who I was becoming,
Sometimes succeeded, at times I failed,

Like a faint watermark on my soul,
Her words guided my career choices.
As a promise I made to myself,
I still carry those words in my heart.

When life reveals teachable moments,
I leave my footprint on youth today.
It’s my way of reaching for the stars,
Where I still can make a difference.

Though I know it wasn’t yesterday,
The memory remains as real.
My senses distinctly remember,
How I felt, what I saw, what I heard.

I still can feel the cold winter breeze,
I still see cloudless cobalt blue skies,
I still hear the news reporting it,
But it happened many years ago.

I still try to make sense of it all,
Even when questions stir in my soul.
Yet, not quite understanding that day,
Nor do I try to figure it out.

I think of the teenage boy I was,
Gazing into the bright morning sky.
Realizing breaking is sometimes,
Beginning of learning then healing.

Serving as a lifetime reminder,
Heaven can fracture without warning.
Leaving us with prayers for tomorrow,
With better days than our yesterdays.