On Friday October 22nd at 6:00 pm Buenos Aires time Asociación Escuelas Lincoln will be holding an online In Memoriam to remember our dear Seño, Herminia Granitto who passed away on September 15, 2021. We will take a moment to remember our dear teacher, as well as our fellow alumnus, Commodore Charles Yatman who also passed away just a few days ago.
Both Herminia and Charles have been pillars of our community and we hope you will join us in taking a moment to remember them. We will send a Zoom link closer to the date.
Please RSVP (https://docs.google.com/forms/d/e/1FAIpQLSep7DxoIRBbcqE118Mnwy80hvbxc_0l_0wce-hL5W3l9Y64PA/viewform) by completing this form by October 20th, 2021
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In my mind I knew this day would arrive, but I never really believed it in my heart. After all, Señora was almost 100 years old. I had some thoughts about what I might say, but it never truly sank in that there would be a world without Señora Herminia Granitto Lorenzi in it. She was extraordinary.
I am not an athlete, not by any stretch of the imagination. I never was. I was never on a sports team coached by Señora. I still hate Thursdays because “pase lo que pase, el jueves hay atletismo.” However, what Señora taught me has lasted me a lifetime, and I too carry on her legacy despite my lack of athletic prowess.
Señora taught me how to swim. When she found out I didn’t know how, she proposed to meet me at the pool during lunchtime to show me. I was terrified at the prospect of having one-on-one sessions with her. But I showed up. “Hacé así con las piernas.” I did. “Ahora hacé así con los brazos.” Again, I complied. “Hice así” for several laps a couple of days in a row. Then, the final test. “Subí a la plataforma alta y saltá.” Legs trembling, I did. “Ahora sabés nadar.”
Señora taught me to believe in myself. She was genuinely pleased and proud of my athletic accomplishments, however small. “Sí lo podés hacer,” then she would throw that volleyball out 5 feet in front of me and cheer when I got to it. Her encouragement stayed with me, and decades later I played on an intramural college volleyball team, and later on a company volleyball team. We didn’t win many matches, but we had fun.
She held us accountable; nothing got past Señora. The “indispuesta” excuse only worked once a month because she kept track her little book. Only one time did I grumble under my breath that I bet she couldn’t do a particular exercise. Big mistake. Señora heard me and got down on the floor and did twice as many reps as she asked us to do.
Señora could be fun. On another rainy Thursday as I dreaded atletismo indoors, Señora sat us in a circle and we played games, pranking one unsuspecting girl with a pitcher of water in her face through a coat sleeve…something about a boat on the ocean. Does anyone remember that? I remember Señora’s sincere laughter.
Señora showed me love. She was genuinely happy to see me and always remembered me at every reunion. She remembered and loved every student. She encouraged us to try our hardest and do our best, even if we didn’t want to. After we did, we experienced joy and accomplishment. That joy and accomplishment in a job well-done is what I carry with me and strive for today. “Buenas y malas” extend ‘way past the softball field; celebrate the “buenas” and shake off the “malas”. I think of all the little conversations we have had over the years, of how proud she was that I learned real tango, of her scooting down the Yellow Brick Road at her last Lincoln reunion in Dallas in 2015. If there was ever a worldwide force of nature, it continues to be Señora Herminia Granitto Lorenzi through all of us.
