Thanksgiving Week Thankfulness

 1. Part of growing up spiritually is learning to be grateful for all things, even our difficulties, disappointments, failures and humiliations.--Mike Aquilina (Love in the Little Things: Tales of Family Life)

2. Gratitude makes sense of our past, brings peace for today, and creates a vision for tomorrow.--Melody Beattie

      A lot of people have been posting on Facebook this month something they are grateful for every day, between the beginning of the month and Thanksgiving day. It's a nice idea. And awhile back, I had planned to start doing as my niece tries to do, a "Thankful Thursday" post every week. Neither of those things has yet happened for me. My life, if nothing else, is not organized or structured nearly enough to help me accomplish those two things, but, maybe I'm thankful for that. I'm not sure. I WANT an organized, more structured life, but I'm afraid that it is really at odds with the creative and impulsive juices that flow through me and make me who I am. If it would mean sacrificing that, then I'm not sure I would be as happy with rote structure and routine as I think I would. Part of growing older is learning who we REALLY are, and accepting that, instead of fighting it.
     I have so many things to be grateful for, and far too often I don't think about them enough. I think I think about them more than many people, but not enough for my own good. This has not been an especially good year, in too many ways. It's been very stressful. And continues to be. AND, I know that the worst is yet to come, at SOME point. But, that doesn't mean it hasn't been a year without abundant blessings as well. It only means that I have been too caught up in the daily struggles to SEE my blessings as clearly as I have been able to other times. It also means, upon a little reflection and soul searching the past few days, that the things I think I could and should possibly be the MOST grateful for this year are not necessarily the things that stand out most clearly. What I am MOST thankful for, though, is that I am beginning to be able to look at some of those difficulties and challenges and times of pain and frustration, now or in the future, as actual blessings.  THAT change in attitude and view point is a sea change for me, and although I'm still a bit shaky on the ideas and concepts of it all, I am grateful that it appears to be coming into focus in shades of greys, with even a pink streak here and there, instead of all blackness, as it has seemed previously. The hinting of light, or promise of light, even in the midst of darkness, is a thin string of hope, and what could we possibly be more grateful for than hope?  Without it, I am nothing at all, and of no use to anyone, least of all myself.
     So - every day blessings? Children, family, employment, friends, food, shelter, warmth from cold days and nights, clothing, my dogs, the country of freedom I live in, those who are willing to take up arms and leave their families to defend my freedom, laughter, glorious sunrises and sunsets.  Yes. To all of them. I am most definitely grateful. Even on my worst days.
     But less obvious sources of gratitude, the deepest wellsprings for me right now are people who truly, truly understand me, inside and out, the bad, the negative, the ugly,and the good,  and who, instead of judging me, seek to encourage me and try to make me see my own beauty. Not an easy task, and truthfully, I'm not sure I can ever be convinced of my own worth, or beauty, but I appreciate so much the rare person who seeks to make me see it.
     I am grateful for the currents of creativity that run so deeply throughout my soul. They have often been a source of deep frustration, and even outside ridicule, but I'm coming into my own. I can almost celebrate them these days, and to not be so deeply ashamed of them.  I NEED to live creatively and differently from so much of the world. I don't care if that is weird. I'm tired of trying to conform to what "normal" people think is good and right. I'm grateful for having that knowledge re-awakened, and for not ignoring it this time. I've had "teachers" of this along the way, and although none have stayed the course of my entire life with me, I'm grateful that I have only allowed that knowledge and teaching to lie dormant, not die. It's still there. It is being whispered awake again. I'm grateful for past, present, and future teachers and see-ers.
     And, on a totally tangible note - I celebrate this week good blood test results for the first time in years. Health-wise, it appears that MOST things are working as they should be.  Finally. And, I celebrate that one of my closest friends is now appearing in my life in a different role in addition to being a friend for over 40 years. It makes me very happy.  It will make my Thanksgiving one of my best ever, I think, and for that, and all other things, good and bad, in my life, I give thanks.
     Now, if only I could get my family to FEED the turkeys, instead of eat them, all would be well...

dedwydd  diolchgarwch

For You- (as I promised)

Sometimes I Get Really Scared

     I have found that the things I feel the deepest about, I either can't write about right away, or sometimes not even at all.  I guess the things I can't write about are there, still there, too deep to bring out. and other things just have to settle a bit, settle like sand sifting to the bottom of a lake, fitting itself in and around the bigger rocks and pebbles.  Last Thursday was a day that has taken me til now to be able to ALMOST brush off. And yet, the fear that I felt then isn't really gone, it's down there, settling amongst the rocks, but not really gone. It just isn't on the surface anymore, like it was for a couple of days, so I can ALMOST laugh it off. And if I can't really even convince myself yet to laugh it off, at least I can take it out, examine it in words, and see what I can make of it now. 

     We have a week in October every year when two presenters come in to our 5th and 6th grades from a group called Project KNOW. It's a week where the 5th and 6th graders begin to learn about their bodies, the physical differences between boys and girls, puberty, learning to make healthy choices, self-esteem, etc. It doesn't really matter what it is for the purpose of my issue, but that's what it was. On Tuesday, one of the presenters checked with me to make sure that I would be at school that evening for the Parent and Child meeting of Project Know. I guess it is simply school policy to make sure there is a school representative there when an outside group uses the school to meet? I don't know, but I did volunteer to come back to school for it, since one of the other teachers lives out of town about 15 miles, and the other one who lives in town like I do has small children at home. I double checked the time with him, assured him I would be there by 6:45, and then went about my day. I never once gave that meeting another thought. Not once. So by the time 3:00 rolled around, I went home, cooked dinner, did whatever it was I did on Tuesday night that did NOT include going back to school for a Project Know Parent-Child meeting.

     Had I remembered it Wednesday, I might have been able to write it off as just a silly lapse of memory. But I not only went through my entire day Wednesday, including sitting in on part of the presenter's session with the 6th graders without having it click, but it took me until a full four periods into the day on Thursday before it dawned on me that I had TOTALLY forgotten the meeting Tuesday night. I think maybe one of my 5th graders said something - something very small - that triggered it, and all of a sudden, I realized I had not given it a single thought since we had talked about it Tuesday morning, 48 hours previous. It was like it had never even been discussed.  I got that terrible hot and cold and sick to my stomach all-at-once feeling, thinking I had forgotten to go the night before, went to one of the other classrooms immediately to confess, only to have the OTHER presenter coldly tell me that it was "actually Tuesday night," and then turn away from me to go back to her lesson. 

     I went back across the hall to my empty classroom, shut the door, sat down and had a mini-meltdown at my computer. See, I tend to be very forgetful on a typical basis. My kids tell me things ALL. THE. TIME. that I simply don't register. They will tell me, or ask me, to go someplace "on Saturday night," and then Saturday night rolls around, and I don't have any idea where they are planning to go. Typically, they sigh and say "But Mom, remember? I TOLD you..." and then, oh yeah, it clicks. Sometimes. But sometimes, it doesn't. But that happens ALL the time, not just sometimes when I'm busy.  I also NEVER remember a book after I've read it, a movie after I've watched it,  and half the things the kids say that all start with "remember the time when..." and half the time or more, I shake my head and think, or say, "No, I DON"T remember that."   Its been really frustrating to me for years, feeling like my brain is made of swiss cheese. I have told my kids at school, ever since I started teaching elementary instead of high school  more than ten years ago, "ask me or tell me something over and over. I won't be mad at you. I just won't remember unless you do." Like, if they ask me for an eraser, if I don't, or can't get it right that second, I won't remember 30 seconds later. If a student asks me to go to the bathroom, two minutes later when I go to do attendance, I have to ask, "Where is so and so?" and the rest of the class will say, "You said he could go to the bathroom, remember?"  and then it dawns on me that oh yeah,. I did.

     But Tuesday night's obligation? NO recollection of it. And the overwhelming feeling of shame that I had forgotten, had let down some adult whom I knew not at all but who was counting on me, as well as the parents and kids that did show up (probably not a lot, truth be told), and my two administrators who were also expecting that I would be there was quickly overtaken by a wave of chillingly cold fear. Fear absolutely and positively GRIPPED me - I must have Alzheimers. This is it. This is the beginning of it. All the years of general forgetfulness, of a sieve-like brain for facts and recall, and now, this one, identifying moment - it's clear it is probably the beginning of Alzheimers. Is it early onset? Do I, at my age, qualify anymore as early-onset? 

Since I was sitting in front of the computer, sobbing away, big heaving scary sobs, I quickly reached over and typed in "Alzheimers symptoms" and came with a check list of ten things. And it seemed to me that day that most of the ten really and truly DID fit. I know lots of people are forgetful SOMETIMES, but I sincerely do not know ANYONE who is as forgetful in general as I am. For years I have forgotten appointments, like dental visits and hair cuts.  I just feel like I can't remember ANYTHING, and it is so very scary.

     My mom had Alzheimers.  My aunt - my mom's sister, and at least one of my uncles, her brother, also did. There was a pivotal Christmas when we all realized it, realized something was very wrong with my mom, and that something turned out to BE Alzheimers.  I thought, on Thursday morning in front of my computer last week, that forgetting that evening event at school was MY pivotal moment - that from that point on, people would use that to mark the beginning, the noticeable beginning, of my decline. Of course, that meant I spent the rest of the day wondering about the rest of my life. I'm not quite 50 yet... far too long to lose my memory, given that my physical health will have me living probably another 40 years. I can't bear the thought of being in a nursing home not knowing anyone for the next 40 years.  My kids are too young to "lose" their mother. Will I be able to finish my next 6 years of teaching, or will I have to retire early? Do I have things I need to take care of now, before it's too late to think about taking care of them? Should I change my life if it is going to come to this, or should I stay with the security, such as it is, of life as I've known it for so long?

     Maybe none of this makes any sense to anyone else, especially if you don't have any history of this devastating illness in your family, but I can honestly tell you... I'd rather fight a cancer diagnosis than one of Alzheimers. Maybe if you have a history of cancer in your family, you are hypervigilant about every little mole on your body, or are religious about getting your yearly mammograms in a way that I am not, because I have no history of that. Oh yeah, I get my mammograms sort of regularly, though when I went this summer, I think they told me it had been four years since my last one. But I went in knowing there would be nothing wrong, and came out with that just that exact assurance. It's hard to worry about cancer. It's just not in my genes. I do know it doesn't mean it CAN"T happen to me, but when I have an overriding family history of heart disease, heart attacks, strokes, diabetes, and Alzheimers, why would I worry about cancer?  Especially when my cholesterol level is through the roof despite taking medicine for it for years, and watching what I eat. It DOES seem like heart disease is far more likely. And while I do worry, a little, about a heart attack, knowing they CAN kill, I don't worry as much as I do about Alzheimers, because there are things I CAN do to help prevent or at least reduce the likelihood of heart disease. There is NOTHING I can do to ward off Alzheimers, and nothing I can take to cure it when it does come. I guess my unspoken prayer has kind of been, "Dear God, please don't let me get Alzeheimers any sooner than I have to, and I really would like to be old already when I do get it, if I have to get it."

     Nearly 49 is NOT what I call old, and no, I'm not at all ready. 

     So, do I have it? Am I showing signs? Is it early-onset? Did forgetting about Tuesday night's meeting until Thursday mean that I likely am hitting close to the pivotal moment when everyone will look back and say "it started then - we noticed it when she forgot that meeting at school"?  Thursday, I would have told you yes, I believed that, was afraid of that, sobbed my little heart out about that in between classes most of the day (and applied an ice pack to my eyes before my kids came back to the room to cover up the damage that crying does. A meltdown at school is NOT a good idea, and one I avoid at all costs, whenever possible).

     Letting four days pass, I can now say, "probably not." I don't KNOW why I forgot it. I DID go buy a monthly/weekly/daily planner over the weekend, and am now trying to write down every single thing that I need to attend or remember. I was given a post it note on Friday that said "Grapes and 2 large pumpkins" - my reminder of what I needed to bring in to school today. We bought the grapes on Friday night, and I sent my son to buy the pumpkins yesterday afternoon, so I did NOT forget those things. Does that mean anything? I don't know. Can I got back to teaching and not cry in between periods? Yep. Can I forgive myself for the stupid mistakes I made typing up Friday's vocabulary quizzes? Friday, no. Friday I was convinced it was one more sign. Today? Yes. Today I realize that I typically make errors when I type quizzes and papers up for my kids, because I am usually trying to do it in a hurry, at the last minute, and have 27 other things on my mind. I'm also under a lot more pressure at school this year because of a forced "team-teaching" situation in two of my four major classes. And there is a lot more pressure in my life in general right now. Not that my life is worse, or even as bad as, many many others. I just know that stress DOES affect me. I also know that I have pretty severe ADD, and always have. Maybe instead of worrying about Alzheimers, which is probably a stretch at this point, maybe I should go back to the doctor and try a different ADD medicine. It did help before, but the side effects were god-awful. But before I face a permanent sort of melt down, maybe I should give that a try again and see if it helps noticeably.  

     It's Monday. Despite the fact that it's Halloween, not ANY elementary teacher's favorite day to be in school, it was definitely a better day than last Thursday.  I remembered my two big pumpkins and my bag of grapes. I didn't make any mistakes on their vocabulary list I typed up over the weekend, and I remembered to buy candy to hand out for trick or treating tonight.My thoughts and anxieties have settled a bit, sifted down through to the bottom of the lake of fear for now.

     The fear, however, does remain. It's a cold hard ball, and one that can,and will, rise again, bubble to the surface,  way too quickly, given the opportunity I'm afraid. The trick is going to be figuring out how to LIVE with this fear, rather than being crippled by it. 

     

Awesome Autumn

     When you teach writing to kids, it's hard to not spend a lot of your own time "thinking like a writer." I only wish THEY would spend half as much time at it as I do!  .
     Last Friday we began something called "showing, not telling," whereby I am trying to get them to add details to their writing to allow the reader to FEEL what they are writing about, not just read ABOUT it.  Some of them  "get it" and some of them don't (and never will, I'm afraid).
     Saturday morning, when I got up to let the dogs out just before 6 am, and then again about 8-ish, I had the bold thought (I know, it's a big one, and before coffee, even) "It's Fall."  And then, like a writer, or rather, like a writing TEACHER, I thought to myself, "Really, Laurie? How do you KNOW that? SHOW me."
 
     In the summer, when I open that door to let the dogs out, the air is warm on my face, the sun halfway above the fence already.. Today, the air is not only much cooler, but it is crisp, crystally.  The air feels chill,  as though there were a frost last night, and the last of the icy crystals are just now evaporating into the feeble,distant, thin sunlight. The mist-covered sun, though, is just beginning to be visible through the trees, low to the horizon, behind the fence. It is rising, but it is not up high enough yet to actually spread any warmth. The trees by that back fence, a thick mass of green in the summer time, are now covered in  golds and russets and oranges,  leaves that still cling, tenaciously, to the uppermost branches, not shaken loose yet by the autumn winds that have passed through. Brown and yellow leaves litter the ground underneath, and rattle like skeleton bones as the dogs run over them, through them. The chill in the air has made the dogs quite frisky - three of the four of them chase, tumble and run past each other as they chase around and around the yard, while the fourth one, too old and achy in the joints in this crisp morning air, stands stiffly by my side, barking out her encouragement to the younger ones. I shiver, involuntarily, standing there in my thin tshirt and jeans, and wish the coffee was already done, wish I had a warm cup to wrap my hands around, tendrils of coffee steam spiraling upwards for me to inhale.. Breathing in that fresh, clear morning air, smelling the lingering scent of wood smoke, left over from last night's fire in the wood stove, feeling happy as a few geese in a straggly V formation honk noisily overhead, I realize that fall has come to New York.
      It's autumn here- colored leaves stand out brightly on the hillsides against their dark evergreen counterparts, crisp morning air greets you and lingers until mid morning at least, crunchy tart apples in bushel baskets beg to be eaten, the bright orange globes of pumpkins on front steps and the yellows, rusty golds and reds, purples, whites of fall mums in beds hold a beauty so singularly breathtaking it is hard to soak it all in. Fall is such a short season here, but a glorious one.

The view from my friend Holly's house; taken by Holly LaBenne

 

Grapes

 Concord Grapes. Did you know they grow on trees in Western New York?  Well, at least in MY back yard they do. Look closely. Can you see them there, hanging overtop of the bird house, in the tree above my fence?  What? You've never heard of tree-grapes before?  Never planted a grape tree?

 Yeah, me either. But I AM lucky enough that the neighbor's vines, behind my fence, grow up OVER my fence, and on up into my trees. Except that the higher they grow, the harder they are to pick!

But they are oh-so-sweet, and make the best jam ever. And since my neighbor works even harder than I do, and has less time off, and not enough time to use them all, I'm free to claim as many of them as I want. I think THIS weekend will involve some home made grape jam, some home made grape JUICE, and some grape pie.

Grapes growing in trees in my back yard. One of the sweetest things about fall in my area. Literally!

Ch-Ch-Ch- Changes...

I have saved these pictures since the end of August. Some days I look back at this first picture of my 16 year old, and still can't believe she looked like this. My beautiful baby girl.

When she first had this hair cut done, and arrived home, (I intentionally did NOT go, but asked her sister to take her, as I seldom "appreciate" her funky ideas for hair styles...), I could not believe that this was still my daughter, my last, my baby, my little girl. Seriously? A Faux-hawk? And BLUE? And BLEACHED? Holy cow... what a lot of extra swallowing I have had to do with this one, to allow her to be herself, to allow her the freedom to express herself in crazy ways that harm no one, but are not MY choices... (no body piercings, no tattoos, no skanky outfits, etc. allowed... but her hair? Eh, it'll grow back...)

 And now, it's settled in to THIS, below.  THIS? I can live with this, without having to roll my eyes, or even PRETEND to like it. I DO like it. She has very delicate, pixie-like facial features, and this has ended up being a great style for her. I've even come to like the blue she adds now and again to keep it bright.

Still, I can't help but think of the David Bowie song every time I look at these pictures.  Sigh. My baby and her crazy, wild ideas.

Stress, Oh How I Love Thee

    Lately I've been repeating a quote to my older daughter so many times it has become a mantra of sorts: "When you're going through hell, keep going."  Little did I realize that the mantra may have been as much for me as it was for her. I'm not sure it's helping either one of us, truthfully. But on the other hand, what other choice does one have, really, other than to just keep going on, one foot in front of the other,getting through each day. 
     I guess the problem is two-fold - part of it is when expectations come up against reality, and the two don't match.  The other part is that I guess I never really expected such a large part of my stress at this point in my life to still come from my children, who are now all nearer to adulthood themselves than childhood still. Sure, when they were 1,3,5 and 7, there was lots of stress. And even when they were  11, 13, 15 and 17, they were the requisite handful that one would expect out of raising 4 children that close in age. I expected that, and was not disappointed in the least!  :)
     But I guess, as they began to get old enough to head off to college in the past few years, and did do just that, fairly easily enough, it seemed, I began to prepare myself for a year with just my last one left at home. We've talked about it a lot in the past few years, what it would be like when it was just her left. And as the activity level around my house has decreased greatly, (along with the food bills, the piles of laundry, the mess and noise in general), I began to look forward a bit to that "empty nest" syndrome. I loved it when my house was full of noise and kids for all those years, and it has taken me a very long adjustment time every time one of them has left. But eventually, I DID adjust, and kind of got used to it. And it is sometimes nice to just MISS your kids instead of having to deal with the constant bickering between them, and such.  
     So as the third one went off to college this fall, my eldest, who graduated in May, ended up coming home, due to lack of a solid career or further education plan on his part. I won't bother going into the details, but suffice it to say, though I love him to death, I am NOT happy to have him home again under these circumstances. He has a degree, he SHOULD have planned better, should have studied harder, SHOULD have done a lot of things he didn't, and because he didn't, he is now living back at home, working 30 hours a week at a minimum wage job, trying to figure out the next course of action for his life. OK, so the job market sucks for everyone these days. I get that. And it makes it a LITTLE easier not to be completely pissed at him, and to be fair, he does try to do a little more around here now than he did when he was growing up. But, it's not what I expected. At his age, I had graduated, had my first real job with my first real income, was living on my own, bought my first car and had a car payment, bills, and was in grad school.  I am worried mostly that he will STILL be living here, STILL not gainfully employed at 30. That worries me.
     And the girl, now in her third year at college, a college that becomes more and more difficult to pay for in this economy, (no little part of my insomnia many nights) the girl who has had the same room-mate for both of her first two years, best friends and "roomies for lyfe" as they always put it, now that they have moved into a triple, instead of the double they shared, is the one who is "going through hell."  Suddenly, out of nowhere, not only is she not getting along with her roommate, but her roommate has teamed up with the other girl in the triple, AND the three in the room next to them, to pretty much launch an all-out attack on my daughter's personality. It's hard to feel good about yourself when there are 5 people confronting you about how much they suddenly hate you, and everything about you. It's been absolutely miserable. And, in the end, today, my daughter is moving across campus into a new room with a complete stranger. It sucks. The whole thing sucks. And although I know her personality has its quirks and I know she can be annoying as hell at times, she also has a heart as big as all outdoors, and does NOT deserve this. I just want her to get settled in, and for her life to settle back down. Unfortunately, it's a small campus, and I don't know that moving is going to make life all good again. So, although it's her drama, it has taken a huge toll on me, worrying about her, listening to the crap her room-mates have been putting her through the past couple of weeks, and really not being able to do anything at all for her, except listen to her cry over the phone, 300 miles away. It sucks. 
     Meanwhile, the boy in Ohio, 7 hours away, has decided that there is simply no way he can live 7 hours away from home. He has burned through all his money that was supposed to last him for at least an entire semester by coming home nearly every weekend, because he can't stand to be out there, that far away from his life here he loved, with nothing to do. He doesn't like the school, doesn't like being away, doesn't want a job out there because he just wants to be home. So, while dealing with the issues of the older two kids, there has also been this,  ongoing with him. It came to a head this weekend, while I was away at an EMS conference. I was on the receiving end of dozens of texts and phonecalls this weekend, begging me to let him come home. On his own, he applied to a tech school near here last week, to transfer to in January, closed out his bank account today, withdrew from college out there, packed up his entire apartment full of stuff, and is currently on his way home. 
     And then there is child number four, my senior in high school. The one who was looking forward to being the only one at home for a year, who now has to share that time with both her brothers.  She has been looking for a college to apply to for next year, and although we visited one in Asheville, NC this summer that seemed like it was going to be "the" college for her, it was not. So last weekend we took a 12+hour trip to Maine and Massachusetts to look at two more "perfect" places.  Now, she "doesn't know."  Seems like that should be HER worry, HER concern, but again, as a parent, her worries and concerns ARE mine. Not only that, but since she has doubled up her last two years of high school and bundled her junior and senior years into one, and is actually graduating a year early, will, in fact, be 16 when she enters college. That is a HUGE concern to me regarding her choice of a college.  I can't seem to divorce myself from worrying about any and all of my kids and their issues. I know, that's normal, and I would be worried about my ability to be a good parent if I WEREN"T concerned about them. But lately, it just seems like every single one of them has such BIG issues, and all four of them together, that I feel like if I don't keep moving, don't keep "going," though this current little hell, if I stop to think about any one of them too long, I'll drown. But I'm getting tired of constantly swimming alone against this current, too. 
     And it's not like I'm without my own every day issues with work, finances,  and life in general. I think I could manage to deal with those better if I didn't just feel so overwhelmed by so much else, by all my kids' problems.  I think about taking some time out, taking a weekend off, and do, in fact, have a quiet cabin weekend coming up in two weeks, but instead of looking forward to it, hoping it will help me to step back and breathe again, I know it will only be full of trying to get caught up on the school stress of not having papers corrected and lesson plans done, while at the same time worrying about THREE of my kids being at home together with no adult supervision to keep them on task and not bickering and fighting with each other all weekend.  They are nearly adults, so I shouldn't HAVE to worry about that. But they are NOT adults yet, just bigger, taller, heavier versions of themselves at younger ages.  And as I struggle to find my place again in this unexpected, unplanned, world of THREE of my kids living at home again when I had only planned for there to be 1 left at this point, I know they, too, are struggling with the changes they hadn't counted on, either. 
     Thankfully, I guess I should be glad that home is still their sanctuary, still a place they WANT to be, still the place that is their respite from stress... but I pray they are not all still here when I retire in 6 more years, or there will be hell to pay then. And I will NOT keep going - I will stop and demand that they GET OUT. No, not really. But lordy, I do hope things start taking on a brighter hue, a better tone, soon. I don't swim well to begin with, in fact, don't even like to be wet. And right now, I'm barely keeping my head above the puddle.