I’m not much of a poet, but sometimes I feel so moved to write that only poetry will do. My poem “The First Snow,” published in The Orchards Poetry Journal this winter, was written for my daughter’s first preschool teacher, DeeDee Leming.

When my daughter was born, I struggled to find the support and connection I needed. Though many have experienced the struggles of new motherhood, in those first few months, it seemed I was truly alone. I felt both ridiculed and judged, especially by more experienced parents. They seemed to be saying, “I’ve suffered through this, and now so should you.” I often wondered if parenting was meant to be done in total isolation, if this was a test of some kind.

A year after the pandemic started, I happened upon a parent-led preschool in Clayton, California. I met “Teacher DeeDee,” and a light turned on. For the first time since becoming a parent, I felt understood. DeeDee knew the struggles of parenthood—the need to nurture your child while also supporting yourself. She taught us to be strong, to be there for our kids. She mentored me and the many other parents who came through the school over the years. I felt forever touched and changed by her guidance.

We left California a year later. It was particularly difficult to leave DeeDee and the school behind, but I felt I was taking something with me—a new understanding of how parenting could be. Then, in the early winter of 2022, we heard the devastating news: DeeDee had unexpectedly passed away. Like many of the parents and children at the school, I felt heartbroken. It seemed her life had been prematurely snuffed out. It was especially difficult to mourn from across the country, cut off from the rest of the community.

A few days after I heard the news, I remember sitting at my desk, thinking of DeeDee, when the first snow of the season arrived. I watched out the window, admiring the lightness, and something in me lifted. My children ran out to play, and I wrote “First Snow.” I don’t think the poem does enough to honor DeeDee. It doesn’t fully express the profound impact she had on so many of us, but it helped me heal. It was my effort, at least, to put into words what DeeDee meant to me.