On Thursday, I lost a friend and the world’s light dimmed. She was much more than just a friend to so many, though. She was a teacher, a mom, a confidant, a role model, a safe place to land, a kindred spirit, and a soul mate.
When describing Tina Stewart, there just aren’t adequate words. Webster fails and God prevails. He truly blessed her with the best He had to offer when He broke the mold on her.
I grew up with a mom who had Tina as a French teacher. I was raised on the stories of the most amazing teacher EVER to have graced Sky View High. We would see her in the grocery store, and she was transformed into Madame Stewart and spoke in a gracefully beautiful tongue to my mother, one that I didn’t understand, but wanted very much to. Years later, that same grocery store would transform me into Simone in front of my own daughters, with every chance meeting.
When I was faced with a language choice on a high school transcript, my mom helped me petition the school for a French class, then moved heaven and earth to get it going. I was blessed to take French from Madame Stewart for three years, although my grasp of the language and poor memory doesn’t do her tutelage justice. Three wonderfully chocolate, cheese, and butter laden years. I gained weight. But, I learned.
I learned love for a culture where she had lived and studied. I learned that rum is extremely flammable, flames reach intense heights when accelerated, school administration really doesn’t like alcohol served at school functions, and sometimes it’s easier to beg forgiveness than it is to ask for permission. I learned that the two most important questions in any language are, “Where is the bathroom?” and “Do you have Diet Coke?” Both of which I can still ask in French and Italian, and have. I learned that high school boyfriends suck, and the term “abusive relationship”. I learned that outfits bought on sale are more gratifying than full-price clothing. I learned that classes could watch a video when someone else needs loved. I learned that Smith’s bakery has the best baguettes, Laughing Cow has the best Swiss cheese and brie, and the US doesn’t come close to European chocolate. Although, the most important lesson she ever taught me was that God always listens, anything can be forgiven, He always loves you, and so do teachers.
I learned that the two most important questions in any language are, “Where is the bathroom?”, and “Do you have Diet Coke?”
She had impeccable style that was always en pointe, yet she was as comfortable on the farm lawn in coveralls, eating Sunday dinner leftovers from a Styrofoam container, as she was dining on French cuisine at a gala, wearing a bedazzled evening gown and heels.
There wasn’t a person for three counties who hadn’t been touched by her kindness, calmed by her voice, or smiled at her humor.
Imagine my delight when we built our home and changed wards. Sundays now meant a renewed friendship, saved seating in Relief Society, a patted hand or quick squeeze, and an insight no one had ever thought of before. Her testimony and faith were as strong as her spirit and her fight. She was tested beyond measure physically, yet kept her grace and dignity throughout her battles.
Her love for her husband, Bill, and his love for her is still a life goal. They inspire others to keep working at it, for just a glimpse of their love and devotion. He quickly became a hero of mine, too. Her whole-hearted, unconditional love for her children is an example to every mom I know. Her love for her friends, yet another.
Mine and my husband’s first Valentine’s Day together, I spent halfway around the world, reveling in a childhood dream come true in front of the Eiffel tower. He knew how badly I wanted to go and gifted me a plane ticket. As I stood awestruck in front of a gigantic metal Wonder of the World, my thoughts were of my dear friend and mentor. I snapped a pic as much for her, as much as for myself. When I returned, she got chocolate, and I got a few hours of shared stories. It was a delightful trade for me.
Years earlier, she was the one to change a life with a piece of chocolate, and I will forever be in her debt. We had a state writing assignment to complete, and I was lucky enough to have her for English, in addition to French. I literally raced to register for classes, so I could choose hers. When the writing assignments were graded, she made a huge deal about someone getting the only “3” on their paper, and yet even more about that same person doing it for a second time (8th and 11th grades) and being one of only a handful in the state to do so. She walked slowly down the aisle and stopped at my desk, reverently placing the coveted package in front of me. The earth could have opened a gaping hole and swallowed me…I wanted it to. I was rather shy (I know, hard to believe, but true) and she knew it. That King-Size Reese’s bar sat untouched in all its orange splendor on my dresser for years after. Not because they aren’t my favorite bar, but more for what it represented for me. She told me I had worth, at a time I was really struggling and couldn’t find any within myself. It became a beacon of hope in my writing, my studies, my pursuit of a degree, and my life. She encouraged me in each of those areas as the years went on. Such a small, sweet gesture for such a huge impact.
The last few days I’ve watched community members flood the Stewart home in droves, arms full of food; the family’s eyes widening with every van door closure. What they don’t understand, is that it will just keep coming. Tina fed us all. She fed our community physically with her amazing food, spiritually, intellectually, socially, and emotionally. There isn’t one of us that won’t attempt to repay that in some small way in the coming days. The easiest is a baked good. As Alan D. Wolfelt once said, “Food is symbolic of love when words are inadequate.” My vocabulary is inadequately lacking in the synonyms for Tina. There just aren’t any.
My husband and I have discussed the sharp, hot slice of losing a beloved mother as good as Tina, because our hearts have been cut and laid open, vulnerable to the world, just recently, as well. Although, the pain of loss doesn’t come close to the memories and feelings they’ve embedded within us, the service they’ve freely offered us, or the knowledge they instilled of Eternal Families.
Tina fed us all. She fed our community physically with her amazing food, spiritually, intellectually, socially, and emotionally
My heart breaks for them because my heart breaks for me, and I wasn’t raised by her (well, sort of).
She will forever be one of my favorite idols.
Je t’aime, Madame Stewart. Vous avez touché mon âme.
Godspeed, my dear friend, until we meet again.