I Saw You Last Night

Where I live it is really sunny. You have to squint and the sun kisses your skin reminding you that it is summer. Last night, I was transported to my Grandparents pool. I could feel the summer sun and the cool water. I was swimming with my two brothers and my two cousins. We were goofing around and it was a happy dream until...

Suddenly, I became aware that I was in the past and I knew what was going to happen to my cousin. He was still having such a good time in the sun, in the water; he had no idea. I wanted to warn him what was going to happen, but I knew I wasn't allowed. It's like the words and the thoughts were stuck inside of me and all I could do was exist in the happiness of that moment. At the same time, I was sad and I wanted to leave because I couldn't do anything to help and all I could think about was what was going to happen. Still the sun was shining and everyone was having a wonderful time.

I woke up and I was a little disconcerted, but I went on with my day. I decided to continue with my project reorganizing my desk and closet. I went to Walmart to get some things to help me. Once I arrived about a mile away, the sun shined down on me, and I remembered that, that very Walmart was where my last memory of my cousin was. It was the night of my mom's fiftieth birthday last year and he and my grandad and I had gone there to get more tupperware to store the leftovers from the party because there had been a lot and Walmart is the only place that sells tupperware still open that late at night. Suddenly with the sun and the memory I felt that same feeling from my dream, I felt guilty that I couldn't warn him.

Later when I got back from Walmart I found the program from his funeral on my desk. I knew it was time, so I moved it to a box with the other things I've saved from childhood.

I don't know if a time is going to come when I have access to those happy memories again without a dark shadow, but for right now I just feel like all those years and all those times that we all thought were just about growing up were everything for him. It just seems unfair, like someone should have told him that this was it.

Goodbye B

The writer in me is a romantic. Maybe I'm a cynic, but at the end of the day, I want to write in a way that shows the rainbow at the end of the storm and the silver lining. Life just makes more sense when you see it that way.

Today, though, there is no silver lining. There's no rainbow. It's just a door slammed in your face. It's just a screen gone black in the middle of a movie. It's one shoe dropping when the other never will.

This morning at five o'clock in the morning my cousin was driving to work and was in a car accident. He was killed.

My heart can't fathom that. He was twenty-two. He'll never see twenty-three.

It's not like I see this cousin all the time. I see him maybe once or twice a year. It's just that the injustice of it is like a slap in the face. You shouldn't have a funeral where your grandparents and parents are there. You shouldn't miss your college graduation because you were killed. You shouldn't have your life ended before it begins.

Justice

I've been having some family issues that feel surreal because I haven't really had contact with my dad's side of the family in a long time. In October, my Grandmother on that side passed away.

I haven't heard much news about my dad in a long time. Unfortunately, I did hear recently about how he treated his mother in her final days. I guess I shouldn't be surprised because he obviously treated his own family terribly, but I was surprised. She requested him to come see her when she knew she was going to die. He refused because he didn't want to see her like that. He broke her heart once when he abandoned his own family and then again in the end.

Well,his father will probably never forgive him for that. I can't say I blame my Grandfather. I choose to forgive my dad for what he did to us, but he hasn't been here continually hurting me. Anyway, apparently my Grandfather is disinheriting my dad and leaving his share to my brothers and I. I don't care about the money and it won't be much anyway, but there is some justice in this. I am a fan of forgiveness and I wish everyone would make peace because you can't be at peace until you make peace with others, but I am still a fan of justice.

The Name Game

My brother and his wife are expecting their second child, a son. (That sounded very Biblical, no? I didn't do it on purpose; I told you I have a theological background.) Anyway, they have been going through the process of selecting a name. All this name drama has made me realize that being a teacher makes it nearly impossible to name a child.

I just realize that I have so much history with so many names that it would be hard to find one that works. For example, it only takes one bad "Jackson" or "McKenzie" to ruin a name. After spending a year of my life saying, "Kyler, don't touch him. Kyler, I said get back to your seat. Kyler, we're waiting for you. Kyler, we don't talk in the hallway. Kyler. Kyler!" I just wouldn't have the heart to name my own child Kyler. Even though I know that a whole new set of memories that are more important would redefine the name in my heart, I couldn't do it because of something else. There would come a day, in the future with my own child, when I became frustrated with that child. I would say to him, "Kyler, we are running late; let's go right now," and suddenly it would happen. The frustration and the name and the tone would transport me back to 2007. I would half expect "bad Kyler" to come running down my stairway. Actually if I ever have my own children, I am just going to get a baby book and cross out all the "no"s first. It will be best to get that out of the way.

As my brother and his wife brainstormed names for their child, I had my own conversation in my head that went something like the following.

"We should name him Ben."
Ben--Exposed himself on the school bus to an entire bus full of children.
"We should name him Mason."
Yeah, if you want him to throw himself on the floor and throw temper tantrums.
"How about Michael?"
Why don't you just gage his ears for him during infancy? He'll clearly end up goth anyways.

I don't say any of this out loud. My brother and his wife are still kind of mad at me because when they wanted to name their daughter Uvi, I told them it was too anatomical. Seriously, think about it: Uvi. They should thank me for helping them dodge the bullet on that one.

--I promise not to tell them about Kyler, though.

Forever

My own little adventure in looking for love this month has made me think a lot about what it means to find someone to share life's whole journey with. How improbable, really, to find someone who you want to spend your youth with and to love that person so much that you hardly realize it when old age comes and it is almost time for death to part you. My rational head tells me that all of my hopes for that are just fantasy. It's like winning the love lottery. I don't know if I will ever find it. I know, though, that my grandparents found love like that. I feel lucky just to watch that.

They married at sixteen. Today they are seventy-two. My grandmother has Alzheimer's, and we are starting to see the effects. It is hard for all of us, but of course it is hardest for my granddad.

My grandmother has been seeing a doctor who is doing experimental treatments. He had to tell my granddad that he has to start driving with her to evaluate her driving and to decide if she can continue to drive independently. My granddad reacted angrily. "He's right though, the doctor, I mean," I said to him, "If there was an accident it wouldn't be worth it."

"I know," he said, "It's just that if I took away driving from her it would be such a blow to her." My mom told me that she thinks it would be hard on him to have to drive her everywhere, but I know it's not that because I know him. It just breaks his heart to let her suffer in this disease and he wishes he could bare the burdens himself.

July of Guys????

Shhhhhhh... Don't tell, but I did what my mom expressly told me not to do. No, it was nothing dirty (please don't go there).

It began like most good ideas. My best friend was over at my house last night and she was playing bar tender. My roommate and I have an abundance of half empty liquor bottles. We tend to buy something when we have people over and never finish it. So, my friend was melting popsicles in my microwave and inventing all sorts of weird drinks. I hardly drank anything because one of these drinks looked like a lava lamp and many tasted like Robitussin, but I did drink enough to be open to suggestion after a while.

So, we called up my other friend. This would be my "crazy" friend. It is the friend everyone has. She's the one who makes you do crazy things you would never do without her. So, my "crazy" friend is like "let's sign up for e-harmony because it's free right now." So, we were using my computer and it took forever and was not fun, so we went to match.com instead. We made an account, but I didn't sign up for it.

So, we wrote a profile for me, and I got a lot of response. Twelve people "winked" at me last night and I set it so you could only see my profile if you live in this city. Anyway, some of the guys seemed like pretty good guys, so I signed up for one month. I figured that if they were all big freaks then I would quit and if I liked some of them then it would be worth it. We will see. Let the games begin!

In other news, I found out today that my brother's wife is expecting baby number two. Personally, it gives me a booming headache to think about them having another kid in their financial situation. I am excited for a second nephew or niece, though!

Father's Day

"I don't know how I'm going to tell him," she said to me. Her eyes were red. Her life was in a whirlwind. Suddenly she was single, suddenly she was left with the burden of taking care of a son alone. More than that she was going to have to tell him that his father left him without saying goodbye.

"Oh, he doesn't know," I said involuntarily covering my mouth.

Tears stung my eyes as I watched the mother and son walk off to their new life without a father. I had been in that kids shoes. I had been in the same situation at the same age when my dad up and left.

What must I have looked like the first day we were all on our own? A little blond head and a small child. I can only remember it through my own eyes. I always wanted to be strong and hold my family together. It is sadder if I look back at it through different eyes and see a little girl there in that situation. Back then, I never thought I was a child.

I can't remember much about the days when we were trying to figure out the what now of that situation. How could one broken hearted woman raise three little kids (7, 6, and 3)? How could the three bright eyed children comprehend this situation? Who would keep that family safe if they ended up in the poorer section of town? Would these kids be the same people they would have been if this tragic situation didn't occur?

My Grandad's life must have changed right then too. He thought he was done being a parent to children until that moment. He thought he was done supporting a nuclear family. Yet, at that moment, he must have realized that he had three more kids.

So, would I be the same person I am today if tragedy hadn't been a part of my young life? I don't think so, but it was the act of kindness that left a deeper impression on me than the tragedy. It is that act which taught me what the true love of a father is. Maybe I could have thought that being a father meant taking care of your obligations. In my life, I knew one man who chose not to meet his obligations as my father and I knew another man who chose to meet the obligations as my father when they weren't his obligations. Who was really my father and who did I learn from? I can only hope that I will be like the man who raised me.

All the Things That Didn't Get a Full Post Because of My Virus

I think it is really important that kids be able to give something to their mothers for Mother's Day. I don't do too many crafts in school, but we did make Mother's Day magnets. I learned how to use a glue gun! It's not as exciting as it sounds, I always hoped it would be used from a long distance. Anyway, I thought it was sooo sweet that my ELL student translated her Mother's Day Cinquain to Chinese. It just seems like a neat picture of what her education is doing for her family.


In Other News:

We had to parents ready to come to blows today in Parent Pick-Up. They didn't fight yet, but one of them promised to come back and "shame" the other in front of everyone tomorrow. There was also a lot of screeching tires when one parent tried to park her car in the parent pick-up line. I told her that she couldn't park there, so she got back in, slammed the car door in my face, and laid on the accelerator in our school parking lot. Never a dull moment there!

Our staff went bowling on the PTO to celebrate Teacher Appreciation Week. I always thought that if I heard everyone on my staff yelling "strike" it would be over something different...

Finally, why haven't I posted in so long?? I got a virus on my computer!! It was my work computer too, but it seems to have been cured by the magical box we are supposed to plug these machines into once a week.

friends

I stayed up too late last night talking to my two best friends. We were talking about life and love and careers. The three of us have been friends since we were thirteen and I can hardly remember my life before we were friends. We've been there for eachother through all the mile markers of growing up, and here we are as adults.

None of the three of us have been very lucky in love. Two of us are solidly single and the third one is unhappily married. We've all have jobs that make you tired and take a lot out of you. We have all had great blessings and tragedies in our families. I think we forget, though, how lucky we are to have friends like eachother.

These are friends that tell me the truth even if it is hard for me to hear. I don't have any sisters, but these two have always been like sisters to me.

Important Book

My kids are writing these holiday books called "The Important Book." It follows a little pattern and they write different paragraphs. We make holiday covers. It's cute. One of the kids in my class lost her father last year. I know because I also taught her brother. One paragraph of hers said the following:

The most important thing about my Real Dad is that he loved me very good. I remember once he used to work at McDonalds. He got fired the first day. He ate a hamburger and that's why he got fired. He was a good person. But the most important thing about my Real Dad is he loved me very good.

I was showing it to the other teachers and they thought it was funny. It does seem funny if you don't know the circumstance. It makes me sad though. I guess I know how it is when you try to remember something good about your real dad and you can't. It made me wonder if he was eating a hamburger because they couldn't afford food. I heard the rumor that this man was killed by gang violence. It makes me wonder if he tried to hold a job before he joined a gang.

Keep Tryin

There are moments in life we never forget. Sometimes, as teachers, we witness these moments in the lives of our students and never even know it. Other times, the important moments in the lives of our students leave such an impression that it becomes a moment we never forget either.

A couple of weeks ago one of my students had a moment at school I know she will never forget (and neither will I). Her parents are recentely divorced, and because of the economy her father had to take a job on the other side of the US. For whatever reason, her father decided to say the final goodbye when he dropped her off at school. I found her a couple of minutes later just bawling at the end of the line.

Of course, I was concerned, and I recommended to her mother that she start meeting with the school social worker. I recieved the nicest e-mail from her father about a week ago thanking me for my help. I could hear in the tone of his e-mail how hard it was for him to leave.

Today, I recieved another e-mail from her dad asking that I scan the weekly progress reports and e-mail him. At first, I was annoyed and I thought, "that is way beyond the scope of what I should be asked to do." Then, after thinking about it, I realized that this is a man trying hard to keep every connection with his daughter alive. How could I not do what I can to help?

I grew up far away from my father and he chose not to be involved in my life. Here now, is a dad trying to prevent this situation from becoming his reality in his life and his daughter's life. If keeping him very connected to the school helps, I want to do it.

Great Is Thy Faithfulness

In church this morning, we sang the old hymn "Great Is Thy Faithfulness." My mom said something to me that has left me thinking all day long. She said that she loved that song because it was like a mile marker for her life. She could remember singing it from the time she was just a little girl, and it is as true for her today when she is almost fifty as it was then. God has always been there and he has always been faithful.

That song means the same thing to me.

Sometimes it seems like my life is really segmented.

I remember early life with my mom and dad and brother. We lived in Kansas and Texas and God knows where else. I remember cold weather and the newness of everything we all probably identify with early childhood.

I remember middle childhood where my family struggled to make it as a single parent family. I remember desert sun at this time in my life. I remember even then how it felt like a different life.

I remember my teenage years. We lived in a house consistently then. My grandparents were there as much as my mom. We had a lot more money because my grandparents helped support us.

I remember my college years--spent far away from the desert city. I remember snow and independence and excitement for the future. I remember good friends who were like family. I was at a Christian college. I learned a lot about God and maybe more about myself.

Now, here I am in early adulthood. I try to make it as a public school teacher. I work a lot and study and write. It is hard for me now, much more than when I was in college, to see the big picture. I guess you could say I can't see the forest for the trees.

Sometimes all the segments of my life seem really disconnected. When I sing "Great Is Thy Faithfulness," though, I remember the common thread for it all: The Lord is faithful.

In my early childhood, I prayed to someone I didn't know. He heard me. I know that now, and in some way I knew that then.

In my middle childhood, I prayed as some sort of insurance policy. He heard me anyway.

In my teenage years, I really came to see God's faithfulness in my life. I found joy in that.

In my college years, my recognition of God's faithfulness grew as did my relationship with Him.

In young adulthood, I've given a lot of myself to my work--work God led me to. All along, though, He's been faithful in reminding me what matters. I am just starting to see that now. I wouldn't have seen it without the struggles.

My story isn't really fragmented at all. It is what it has always been: the story of God's faithfulness.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TPcTOWf9g7o