Thank You For Teaching Me

     

 Recently I had lunch with a wonderful man I'm honored to know; my former employer. We'd met one day at Maple Restaurant, an old establishment in Ambridge, the small, homey town I grew up in. All the pleasant talk and chatter with him brought me back. Back to a time when I was young, the whole world before me.......

      When I graduated business school at eighteen, I was faced with the daunting task of job hunting. What to do? Go on interviews that the school would provide, all of them in the downtown Pittsburgh area? No way.
     As chance would have it, my mother was looking through the paper one day and spotted an ad: Dental Assistant, will train....it read. When she saw it was the dentist I'd gone to as a little girl, she encouraged me to call.
     Dental Assistant? What on earth?
     Thirty some years later, I've never looked back. The dental field has been extremely rewarding for me, teaching me compassion, patience, caring and understanding.
     The man who would help me learn these lessons and many others is my former boss, Dr. Alvin Zamba. A quiet, good soul, this man would teach me more about life, people, work ethics and goodness than I would ever learn elsewhere. With his gentle approach to our patients in the dental office we worked together for twenty seven years, Dr. Zamba showed me that honesty and hard work are the traits we should all strive for.
     The dental work we put out through the years was impeccable. A periodontist, gum specialist, in our area would call Dr. Zamba, "Beaver County's Most Well-Kept Secret". And he was. Our fees were reasonable, and the work of his hands, incredible. Our satisfied patients would tell me in private, how pleased they were with their appointments.
     In all the years working with Dr. Zamba, I would not miss a day's work. I looked forward to the bond and closeness with the elderly patients we saw on a daily basis. I listened to their problems, hopes and dreams. I laughed with them and cried with them.
     Several times, the doctor and I went to the bedside of a sick, older man in his own home. He didn't have much longer to live, but his family wanted him to have dentures made for whatever time he had left. I think of that now, how my boss took the time out of his busy day, and the comfort of working in our office to do this for the family.
     Yes, there were testy moments, as there were only the two of us working together for many years, and maybe my temper wanted to flare at times, but keeping myself in check was also another lesson. First and foremost, respect of my employer, and learning to hold my tongue when I may not have agreed with something.
     I miss those days, a simpler time in a small town, in an old-fashioned office decorated in antiques with no frills, no computer, no exciting major equipment. Only the tools and skills of a wonderful man, a man I am pleased to have called "boss" for many years.
     Here's to you, Dr. Zamba, in thankfulness for all I learned at your side.

A Day of Changed Lives

     September 11, 2001.  A day that would change history in our country.  As a younger, single mother, I couldn't watch as the events unfolded on the television that night.  I couldn't bear to think about what was going on around me and my young son.  Would we be safe?  Would more devastation happen perhaps even closer to home this time?
     I had been working at a dentist office at the time when the news first hit the airwaves.  I looked up from the patient seated before the dentist and I, eyes wide behind the safety glasses I wore.  Hmmm, just an accident, I thought at first.  Then the report came in of a second incident and later more tragic news.  I wanted to bolt from the office, pick my child up from school and hunker down somewhere safe.  The dentist would not permit me to go.  He told me it was business as usual and nothing further would happen.
     As I walked through the door to my parents home after work that evening, seeing the faces of my loved ones before me, I gave silent thanks to God.  How many others would be crying out to Him that night?  How many others were in the midst of grief and despair?
     I shut down after that.  I would not view television reports, look at newspaper or magazine articles.  It was as if I wanted to live in my own little world.  A world where things like this did not happen.
     It would take me many years to finally watch the events of that fateful day.  My new husband saved newspaper articles, and little by little, I became curious.  We would sit and view poignant programs about the many events of September 11th.
     The day my husband took me to the plane crash site in Somerset, Pennsylvania would change my life.  As we stood on the hillside, the wind whipping about us, I could feel the solemness, the almost spiritual quality in the very air.  I began to appreciate the heroes and the many people who had died that day in a way I never had before.  The small chapel where many had left condolences and tokens of love was an all too vivid reminder of the lives snuffed so briefly out.

     Each year my husband and I make the hour or so trip to this hallowed site.  There have been several changes through the years, improvements as it were.  But the initial feeling of the sacredness, the feeling you perhaps get when you first stand on the Gettysburg battlefield remains.