Ida Medlyn, Age 94

     I did not know her very much; she seemed nice, she tried to help me in her job and responsibility. Looks like she lived a good, long life.

She was a part of my life for a bit in the 1980s, which might have affected me in a few things later, since.

This last year during the pandemic I have tracked about 50 websites, give or take, on my phone. Some pages I check daily, others every few days. A few I may review after a week or so. One of the sites that I catch up on regularly is my hometown Hoosier Times obituaries. I see some people on occasion that I know, and I see the pattern of those who pass. Most are older, but there are a surprising number of younger ones.

   Ida came up yesterday or the night before in the obits. I know her! The face, the name. Was she my college English teacher my senior year? No, I consulted my year book. That was Mrs. Clapacs. Mrs. Medlyn was my high school counselor, for all four years. Yes. I only recall two interactions with her.

    First, I remember she met with my mom separately from me. It was maybe my junior year, when math was killing me (Mr. Girdley!) and a few other subjects were flagging, probably even Spanish. My mother told me that she, Mrs. Medlyn told my mom that she thought I was maybe taking drugs.

   I don't, nor have have I ever, taken drugs. I have taken prescriptions, yes. Also, while some freshmen and sophomores at Bloomington High School South met with and consulted with their respective high school counselors in their early years, I avoided mine. I thought that I was doing fine back then. And I was, more or less.

    Junior year was catching up with me, though. She saw some erratic grades, maybe I appeared dazed a few times when she observed me ... Not sure. I was going to bed generally late and waking up early.  I attended early morning church seminary more than an hour before school, daily. I needed naps after school to survive. I had an after school paper route, I did some extra-curricular things like church and Scouts. That junior year we hosted my Spanish student, Ricardo. I would stay up late watching TV and reading, occasionally getting some home work done.

   My mom lived in another house; I would visit with her at her place on Sundays and Thursdays. We were close, but she did not observe me everyday. I was driving and possessed a car inherited from my older sisters, afforded by my dad; I was generally responsible. I saw three big rock concerts that year, staying on the street overnight to get better seats for one of them...

 

     Near the end, somewhere, of my junior year in high school, 1988, I met with Mrs. Medlyn and my mom at her office. My first and only time. Prior to that I had a goal to avoid her all four years. Part of the reason was I wanted to see the person who alleged that I was on drugs (I knew plenty of people who actually did), and now that my math career had turned into a dumpster fire (not passing), I was trying to regroup what I could plan out my senior, and final year of my K-12. 

     She talked me (us, my mom, too), into taking Chemistry, and I made the severe mistake of signing up with Mr. Lumbley instead of an easier teacher like Mrs. Rambo. She asked me if I was sure that I could take him. I thought that I could. But I couldn't. Whoops. One mistake. I learned about a day by day math class for strugglers like me, which I could do at my own pace and recover some of the junior classes and concepts that I did not pass. That was smart planning.

    And that was it; I never talked to her again.

   I am not sure how long she worked at South, how many students she guided. Must have been thousands.

   She is gone now, I guess her legacy cemented, having retired by at least 2000. Born 94 years ago... let me do the math: born in 1926-7?

   God bless her family and loved ones, I suppose here life was good, and she did me a few solids, trying to warn me about the the toughest chemistry course. We learn through successes and failures.

 

   And for me, still no drugs. Not even alcohol or much caffeine.

    Still learning.

    Moving on.