Grieving over loss of teacher or mentor is normal

I play country-western songs for my kitties - they like the low backbeat and find it soothing.

Well, there is a nice country song by a singer who lost his beloved guitar-songwriter teacher, his idol. He says, "No one knew, but I went out in the woods and I cried."

A similar thing happened to me. Thirty years ago I was working at Digital Equipment Corp. in Massachusetts, and I was planning an annual executive institute on cutting-edge engineering techniques. Motorola had just won a big award for Six Sigma Total Quality methods, so I went to Motorola in Schaumburg to learn about it and met a man named Bill Smith. He taught me all about Six Sigma, and I imported this methodology into DEC.

After a couple years, I went to work for Motorola and we moved here. One day, Bill died suddenly of a heart attack in the main Motorola HQ cafeteria. Bill Smith wasn't my idol, like in the country song, but he was a mentor and a big part of my career path. I was so sad.

I recently got a long letter from a former student of my dear husband Baheej. This student from 25 years ago had just learned about Baheej's death, although Baheej died 6½ years ago. This man wrote to me in detail about how important Baheej was to him.

Over the years, at local festivals and restaurants in Massachusetts, Baheej was invariably approached by former students who were glad to see him and wanted him to meet their children. And after so many years teaching there, he often had the grown children of his former college students in his classes.

The death of a mentor or important teacher in your life - although you are not a relative or even a close friend - can cause a lot of grief that no one even realizes is happening. It's another kind of invisible grief. I don't think there is much anyone can do. They don't even know. But if it happened or happens to you, know you are not alone.

I had many teachers who were instrumental in my life. And you probably have had, too. Mr. Dowdy, my sixth-grade teacher, showed us a different kind of teaching and caring for his students, more fatherly and brotherly.

Mrs. Woodcock was my first grade teacher - demanding, strict, a little terrifying but fair; she taught us to read and write very well. Kind Mrs. Brown taught me in the second grade.

In Colorado my freshman year of college, I had a political science professor who told me to transfer to the University of Minnesota - that I should be in a major university. That was critical to me getting to Harvard three years later.

I didn't grieve for all these people, but I remembered them, and still do.

There are teachers and mentors who were very important in your life, and you remember them, and some cause you sadness and grief at their deaths. It might not have become long-term grief, but they were important to you and you have those nice memories and valuable lessons to keep forever.

• Susan Anderson-Khleif of Sleepy Hollow has a Ph.D. in family sociology from Harvard, taught at Wellesley College, and is a retired Motorola executive. Contact her at sakhleif@comcast.net or see her blog longtermgrief.tumblr.com. See previous columns at www.dailyherald.com/topics/Anderson-Kleif-Susan/.