A Burst of Memory

Sometimes we simply don’t remember. Do you remember everything good that happened in your life any more clearly than anything bad? Maybe it’s all there in the folds of the brain just waiting for a reason to remember. I know I’ve done things I don’t want to remember. There might be as many regrets as there are joys, but they are hidden from me except on rare occasions when something evokes it; makes it come out of hiding. Then, like a flash of lightening, I experience a deep emotion pang; sometimes of great joy, but just as often great sorrow. And I think about it for a while, wondering what to do with it, what to do with an unbidden memory that came out of hiding.

So now I’m faced with living in that memory for a short time. I’m thinking of how I could have done things differently without really changing the outcome. With the memory comes questions of what could have been. Robert Frost was a prolific writer, but one poem in particular comes to mind when these unbidden memories arise; “Two roads diverged in a wood and I took the one less traveled by.” Maybe we all took the one less traveled by hoping, perhaps as Frost did, to return and try the other road. But that doesn’t happen. We only get one life and the way we choose to live it is what makes the outcome unique. I can second guess, but I’ll never really know.

Might I have nurtured distant friendships better? Might I have chosen a different path and still come out in the same place?

I do have regrets. I wish I had been “more.” More kind, considerate, compassionate, giving, loving _ more of so many of the things that work together to make life more fulfilled. Yet, as I lived each day, this might have been what I thought I was doing. It’s only in hindsight that I see I could have done it so much better. But I am me, and all that I was is what made me … me. If I am not content with the outcome, I cannot go back and change it no matter how dearly I might want to. I can only work to make today better than the day before or the day before that.

Aha! A thought comes to me at this juncture. How can I change me? Can an old dog learn new tricks? Can I become more than the sum of my entire life? Am I destined to live this path and make the best of it? In truth, I have no answers. If age brings wisdom, it brings it slowly. Just when I think I have stumbled upon a truth, life throws a curve and I’m not so sure.

Maybe – just maybe – I will live long enough for wisdom to be the better part of me. 

She couldn't live without him...

It was only 10 days. Dad died and Mom followed him 10 days later. It's still hard to believe that they're both gone - one a few days before Thanksgiving, the other a few days after.

Mom, I believed, only needed a few days rest and she would be fine. In my heart I knew she wasn't fine for some time. You can lose a parent in more ways than through death. Thinking back, it seems I lost Mom years ago when she started have trouble hearing, then when her memory began to fail. It's hard to sit and talk when one is missing so much of the conversation. Maybe that was more the problem than her memory. She simply didn't hear what was going on around her and she was left in the periphery of all that went on around her. Dad bought her a wonderful appliance to help her with this problem; she threw the hearing aid away, refused to use it. Is it possible that hearing goes on and off like a light? I wonder because sometimes it seemed as though she could hear just fine.

I wasn't with her when she died. I was in PA for Dad's death and funeral, then drove home after Thanksgiving. I thought I would return in a few weeks and find her if not up and around, at least more her old self. But it was not to be. Two days after returning home, the call came to tell me she would not be there in a few weeks; would not be there ever again.

I made the sad trip North once more. I was there to view her earthly remains, to get love and support, and to give the same to my siblings and friends.

Death is always a surprise. I went North to be with Dad knowing he was dying. The death was a shock nonetheless. I returned home not knowing Mom was dying. The death was an unexpected shock.

Life goes on, but I have thought of them everyday. Sometimes I would smile, but only briefly because the memory would fade to the reality of their deaths. You hear that times heals. I wonder how much time it takes?

Losing Dad

Death is even more final than I believed. When you keep a vigil at someone's side, you know the inevitable is coming, but I don't think you can ever be prepared for that final moment when someone you love dearly ceases to be. There on the bed remains his earthly body that transported his soul for so long. Then, in one final breath, the body becomes a shell and the spirit of the man you knew and loved your entire life moves on to a new life...and you cannot be part of that life. My mind understands, but my heart does not.

I believe in heaven and I know Dad did, too. He was a spiritual man, consistent in prayer. Yet he was always understated; his prayers private as he sat reclining in his comfortable chair. He prayed for his parents, brothers, and sisters who all went before him. I imagine him now wrapped in the comfort of their welcoming love. Dad may never be proclaimed a saint, but he certainly is an angel.

Perhaps, I muse, God arranged it all (as God does). Dad died on the 6th birthday of his great-grandson. I imagine him as Jayce's very own guardian angel taking over from whichever angel previously held that slot. I don't think he could have a better one than Dad.

Things might have been so different. Each step that led me to Dad's side was hesitant...making the decision to go when there seemed no urgency...choosing the day to leave when so much made me want to stay...going to visit the day I arrived even though all my body wanted to do was sleep...choosing to stay at his side while everyone slept. A different decision at any juncture would have made things so different. We really are being guided day by day, but we don't recognize it until times like this.

Being at his side as he breathed his last breath was the saddest thing I've ever experienced, but I followed the right path even though I didn't know it at the time. The next few days will be a test of my endurance as we welcome family and friends who will come to offer their sympathy and condolences. My grief is new, but my faith gives me confidence. I will cry with my family and friends, but in my heart, I am at peace.

Life and the Liberty Coin

There are times when life seems especially sweet, or perhaps poignant. I look back on my life and the road is long; looking forward the end is shrouded in mist yet still there on the horizon is the road not taken. Granted I have lived most of my life - I cannot possibly live another 60+ years - yet I look to the future and all it has to hold. I see joy and sorrow hidden in that mist. Yet, has not my life been a series of joys and sorrows - emotions that make life life.

Today I found a dime. The dime is a 1920 Liberty coin. It made me think of my Mother. Like the coin, she came into existence in 1920. The coin is worn but still of value. My Mother is worn, but still of inestimable value. She is not the woman of my youth, but she knows me still. Her mind falters and she repeats the same dialogue and I find it humorously alarming. I can have long, heartfelt talks with her, but she won't remember them. I can confide in her, hug her, and love her as I always have. She will not remember. I don't see the day when she will not remember me, but I have heard that it happens. Now it is she who needs the kind of care she gave to me all my life...and she doesn't realize it.

I will be spending time with her and my Dad this summer. I'm hoping...praying...that my heart will accept what is with gratitude. I want to enjoy this gift called the present.

Bright Times

I'll be finished with the long-term substitute job I accepted soon. Things have gone surprising well in spite of a few obstacles I encountered. I learned much from this experience, but most of all I learned to expect the unexpected.

That serendipitous moment I spoke of earlier seems to be blossoming and full of promise for a most happy future. I watch with awe at its unfolding. I make no predictions, but I hope most fervently.

My youngest graduates from AFI Conservatory in a few days. I am not privy to her body of works, but given her talent I imagine they are quite wonderful. She has worked hard in graduate school and I look forward to seeing her succeed beyond any of her wildest dreams.

Notes at Home Base

Substitutes are meat; Students are carnivores
A reminder to teachers...

Your "wonderful class" is in full attack mode when you're not there. If you leave no seating chart, no lesson plan or a plan that takes too little time, no standard of behavior to apply, no hint of your classroom expectations, no rules surrounding students leaving the room, no information about who to contact in case of injury or illness of a child, no plan for the truly unruly, undisciplined student…well, then we are dead meat. You have left us defenseless at the hands of our attackers.

Classroom helpers? They are your helpers and not usually very helpful for a sub. Their looks of astonishment at being called "helper" or their surly or sullen attitude clearly says, "I'm the teacher's helper; you're on your own."

You face the same challenges each day. For a sub, each period is a new and different challenge, and that pattern is repeated for every day a sub walks into a classroom. Potentially, a sub can face 20 or more classes a week filled with students who are - for the most part - delighted you are not there and gleeful for the opportunity to play "get the sub."

For myself, I'm gun shy. Certain names are refused immediately in favor of those who left the sub well armed. Sometimes, we arrive at school after turning down your job only to find you couldn't get coverage and we have to help in your classroom anyway. Expect us to do the minimum we must to get through the day. If your students want to play, we'll ask them to play quietly. If you leave us defenseless, we will find a safe corner and wait for the ending bell to ring.

The subs I know just want to do what you ask the best way we can. Leave us well armed so we can do that job for you. If you do, you’ll never have a problem finding a “sub.” We are the subs, not the teachers, and all we can do is use the tools you leave behind for us. Please don’t leave us unarmed.

Future Vision

Kismet. Serendipity. How can you determine what course of events leads to a particular moment in time? How long is it before you know that a higher power actually saw it through to fruition or if it's just another rung in the ladder leading to a different future. I can look back over many years and see what appears to be a chain of events leading to an unexpected but desirable outcome. It's too soon to know if this road leads to the future I envision, but it is a good vision.

It Happens! A mealtime story.

I’m sure the noise level in the kitchen must exceed the maximum allowed by law.

The dishwasher is still running because no one thought to turn it on earlier and the dishes needed aren’t clean. The dryer is running so that the forgotten permanent press clothes left in yesterday won't get permanently wrinkled. The washer is re-washing the same load because the clothes in it have began to emanate that odor which only three day old damp clothes can.

As dinner time gets nearer, a little help is needed to get everything ready to put on the table. I call the children. The older two try to out-yak each other talking of things they forgot to say when it was quiet. The youngest, not to be outdone, raises her voice a few notches to be heard above everything and everyone else. Above the din, I get across the message that it’s time to set the table. Now the clatter of dishes, clink of glasses, and rattle of silverware add to the cacophony.

The whir of the automatic opener pulling up the garage door and the roar of the engine as the truck is pulled inside are almost unheard. The door into the den from the garage opens, and the man of the house enters. The look on his face attests it’s been a long, hard day, but that's no reason not to shout hello. His frown turns to a glower as he crosses the den to the kitchen and finds he can’t hear himself think.

Time for some peace and quiet. The dishwasher has completed its cycle, the other appliances are turned off, the table is set, the candles are lit, and serenity fills the room. The children sit at their accustomed places; dinner is set on the table and...

“Give me five minutes, I’ve gotta go upstairs.”

“Ha! Five minutes indeed.” but no words are spoken.

The family waits, chatting a bit.

“Aaron, put ice in the glasses. Cassie, get the soda, but give Rose milk. I’ll have water.”

Everything now done Father returns - within five minutes!

Everyone joins hands for “Grace.”

“Where’s the cranberry sauce? You know I never eat chicken unless there’s cranberry sauce.” Father glares at me.

The children grow tense. They know Mom doesn’t have cranberry sauce.

“I thought there was a can in the pantry, but there wasn’t, so we’re having applesauce, instead,” I reply casually.

Father’s face reveals annoyance. I go around the table serving chicken to everyone and as I approach him, he causes me to bump his glassful of soda - spilling only a few drops - as he flips his plate upside down. Annoyance confirmed.

“Ninny!” but no word is spoken. I place his chicken on the bottom of the plate. The children stare wide-eyed, first at the plate, then at me as I calmly sit down to my meal. The tension is so thick you can cut it.

“Please pass the potatoes and corn,” I request nonchalantly.

After serving myself, I pass them to the others who then set the bowls down on the table near their father, who, wonder of wonders, hasn’t stormed out of the room. Calmly, deliberately, Father serves himself potatoes and corn, and applesauce, and serenely begins to eat.

The children watch him wide-eyed with amazement, then look at me. My face is covered by my hands holding my napkin, but my twitching shoulders betray my delight. Unable to control myself, I burst into gales of laughter which are followed almost immediately by those of the children. Father looks once around the table, then sedately continues to eat his meal.

“Hey, Dad, how do you want your plate tomorrow, up or down?”

Thoughts on Relationships

Always remember to make time for each other. Watch a sunrise or a sunset. Walk through the surf. Pickup a sea shell. Walk through the woods. Pick a wild flower. Picnic on the front lawn. Throw some crust to the squirrels. Serve each other breakfast in bed. Walk through a garden. Plant a tree. Cuddle frequently. Tell jokes to each other. Talk about your fears. Talk about your joys. Try a new restaurant. Revisit your favorite place. Exchange love notes. Cry together. Forgive easily. Touch often. Clean the car together. Plan your dream vacation. Fold laundry together. Watch his favorite movie with him. Watch her favorite movie with her. Dance when the mood strikes. Sing – even if it’s off key. Pray together. Share your visions. Cook together. Be passionate. Remember to say please - and thank you to each other. Watch fireworks. Whisper to each other. Giggle together. Reminisce. Argue fairly. Give each other a scalp massage. Shower together. Compliment each other. Balance the bank statement together. Read poetry. Discuss the news and weather. Gossip. Take a class…learn Italian. Visit Rome. Pay bills together. You wash while she dries. Decorate the tree together. Hold hands in the mall. Sit together and people watch. Play games with a child. Bake cookies. Think before you speak in anger…you cannot take it back. You can’t say “I love you” too often. Say “I’m sorry” when it’s needed. Give him a single rose. Give her chocolate. Give your best at all times. Nurture your love and it grows endlessly.

Thoughts on a Winter's Night

The passage of time amazes me. In January, the year begins anew and I believe I have all the time in the world to accomplish my New Year’s resolutions. Before I know it, I’m eating candy out of a heart-shaped box, and I have almost no time to take a breath before green is the color of the day and shamrocks abound. Spring brings the celebration of Christ’s resurrection, followed in no time by days to honor Mom and then Dad. Watching fireworks light the sky on Independence Day still thrills me, and it seems that as the ash falls from the sky children are preparing for a new school year and we celebrate the day that marks the end of summer. Suddenly the days seem to start going faster and soon little goblins run to my door hoping for a treat. I have little time to catch my breath before I’m preparing a Thanksgiving feast to set on the table. Suddenly Christmas is upon me and I delight in putting up lights and decorations, trimming the tree, and baking cookies as I wait to celebrate the birth of Christ. And if that isn’t enough to speed along the year, there are birthdays, baptisms, weddings and anniversaries to celebrate with loved ones. It seems life is, after all, the passage of time and a series of “occasions” that bring people together in joy and yes, sometimes sadness. But right here, right now the spirit of the season makes me smile. Children laughing, adults scurrying, Santa ho ho-ing, houses draped in lights, frosty nights, and bright stars. As another year draws to a close, I wish you sweet memories, joy in simple pleasures, and blessings in the New Year.