She will be missed. Certainly. Damé (read "dam" with a goat's mee) left us almost 5 years ago. But she is missed and will always be. She was a charming stocky woman of humble height and complexion as brown as her garden soil. Her legs would arc like bows pressured against the ground. She had that noticeably black thick hair that would unfurl into a wavy length reaching her shoulders. She had finely-drawn pencil brows above her dark deep eyes that would give you an inch of fear in a single look. And who would ever forget her faved fashion - stripes and tucked in just above the belly? Damé wasn't really a charming woman, but she was my fifth grade teacher. But this is not how I remembered my "maestra". There were much more to those thick dark lips. There is more to those casual pinches she gave us. There is much more intimacy in what my "maestra" taught me than any other teacher I have ever had. Frankly, it wasn't the high grades either. She taug...
Here's how it felt blogging over my biotopic pond...