We’ve just spent a month in a rabbit hole. We followed a White Rabbit and joined a Tea Party. We laughed and cried and even whined, “I can’t think of another thing to write about,” being a common lament. And we supported each other through it all. Does this mean we are all mad?
But I don’t want to go among mad people,” Alice remarked. “Oh, you can’t help that,” said the Cat: “we’re all mad here. I’m mad. You’re mad.” “How do you know I’m mad?” said Alice. “You must be,” said the Cat, “or you wouldn’t have come here.”
But now we release ourselves from this March madness. The madness called the Slice of Life Writing Challenge. “Mad?” you say. “Well, yes, came the reply.”
We have just spent the last 30 days, today being the 31st day, in a rabbit hole. Ask Alice, she will tell you that is madness. In the rabbit hole we set aside the tedium and stress of our working (or retired) life for an hour or two at least every single day to write and read and listen and think and comment. And why did we do this? Was there a reward? Was there a ransom being held over someone’s head? Was there a pot of gold at the end of that rainbow?
In a way, yes, there was. Because participating in the March Slice of Life Writing Challenge is a challenge of the best kind. A challenge to improve yourself and help others improve themselves. It was a seat at the March Hare’s table, a very full table indeed, but everyone was welcome. And the White Rabbit did you a favor leading you here. And, yes, Alice, we will do it again.
Three years spent teaching in a Catholic school. Then thirty four years in public education. Thirty seven years an educator. Thirty seven wonderful years. Challenging but wonderful. I am a teacher. I will always be a teacher. But last year was the year I bid adieu.
I called a classroom my home for more than half my life. When I graduated in 1980 there were no teaching jobs. My cousin teased me that I could get a job as a crossing guard, they needed one in town. But a phone call came. A call from a principal at a Catholic school. The town was far enough away that I had to look it up on a map. Yes, an actual map because there were no smart phones in 1980. Only phones attached to walls. The school year had already begun. The principal, a nun, was filling in as the third grade teacher until she was able to fill the position. Not an easy proposition when you could only offer $6000 a year salary. The children prayed on Friday before leaving for the weekend. Prayed a teacher would be there on Monday. They got me. I was the answer to their prayers. Some might say be careful of what you pray for!
That first job granted me two wonderful gifts. First, I met my husband while teaching thanks to a colleague who was determined I meet, “Her friend Marie’s son Richie”. We met and I knew. But that is a different story. The second gift was the public school position offered to me a few years later. They found me through a connection from that Catholic School. And I held that public school position for the next 34 years. I loved teaching. And I loved the district I taught in. It always felt like a perfect match. I spent those years amidst family. As I approached the age of 60 I began to get the question, “When do you think you will retire?” My response was always, “I don’t know.”
Last year, in 2022, I knew it was time. With the loss of my husband and the huge changes I could see coming in the field of education, I knew I was ready to leave. I just wasn’t up to all it takes to make the big shifts. And I am ok with that. It’s funny, I remember my mom saying the same thing when she retired from banking. The job was changing and it no longer felt the same to her. I didn’t understand what she meant then. I understand it now. You just know. And it is with peace in your heart that you push the famous button. And with that you enter a new phase of your life.
And now I am a retired person. Not tired, but retired. Ready to move forward and face new challenges. New adventures. And I’ll always be thankful for the profession that taught me so much about life and living.
I don’t really mean this the way it sounds, but it’s a funny title and I just had to use it. And although this statement is often made as though it is a devastating realization, seeing myself become more and more like my mother reassures me.
For one thing, my mother was a very funny person. She had this way of telling a story about something that happened to her and she would just crack us all up. And weird things happened to her! She sent me a picture one day that she took with her phone. Well the picture was a sort of ghost image of a bird on her picture window. Seems it flew right into her window (picture a total face plant, wings and feet spread eagle), landed on the ground where it stayed for a while, then got up and flew away! And it left this almost angel image on the glass!
Then I came under attack by a robin smashing into my window and I thought, oh no, I am becoming my mother!
My mother was also very organized in the way she kept up with the needs of her home. Every year she would allocate a sum of money and spend it on her home. She would upgrade the roof or the HVAC system. One year she got some painting done, another repair work to her back porch. She had my son install new floors in her kitchen and insisted on paying him. “Grandma, I don’t want you to pay me,” he implored. “No, I have the money set aside and I would rather pay you than someone else. Besides, I know the job will be done right,” she told him right back.
I had my front door replaced this past year (this had been on my husband’s list) and the chimney cleaned. I also had some soffit repairs completed. That solved my flying squirrel in the attic problem! Hmm, I’m thinking, maybe I am becoming my mother!
If you knew my mother you would remember her as a kind and patient person. People liked her, dogs and cats liked her, her grandchildren adored her because, well, who wouldn’t! She was always there whenever her anyone needed her. She thought of herself as antisocial but really she was very outgoing and fun loving. She just never wanted to be a burden on anyone. And she was very very brave, facing divorce as a young mother with 3 children, going back to college to complete her education and working her way up to being a bank manager. She was brave alright.
And here I am, discovering the bravery needed to face life after the loss of my husband. Cherishing the kindness of family and friends who care about me and want to do things with me. Embracing patience as I navigate home responsibilities and puppy ownership and being a grandmother.
Thank you mom, because just maybe, if I am lucky, I can say, “I am becoming my mother.”
My friend and I went to see the new movie, A Good Person, over the weekend. It was excellent, I highly recommend it but that is not what I am here to write about today. I’m here to write about being aware.
The theater was not too full and there were a few guys sitting behind me. I could tell because one of them had this infectious laugh. The movie was not a comedy but there were moments I found myself chuckling and was aware of the laughter behind me. Was he getting more out of the line than I was? Did he have a different kind of connection to the scene?
Suddenly I became aware of an unsettledness. A bit of a commotion, “Turn the phone off!” A low mumble. “You are ruining the movie!” Some shuffling, movement. Then a yell,
“I SAID TURN IT OFF!”
Ok, I thought to myself. Is it time to get my friend up and move to a different seat? I didn’t think she was aware of what was going on but I was. I waited, remaining aware. The woman walked out and came back after some time with a manager. I was expecting a heated exchange but all remained calm. Apologetic. “It won’t happen again, sorry.”
“IS THAT ALL YOU ARE GOING TO DO?”
And then calm. Back to the movie. My attention where it needed to be, in this magnificently rendered story of heartbreak and healing. Tears and tissues for sure but so rewarding to watch the actors portray these characters and bring this story to life. And that model train village. Wow. The stories in each of those tiny scenes. Each one a slice of a life.
When the movie ended my friend and I were wiping our eyes and beginning to express all the emotions and thoughts swirling. Those emotions and thoughts that a great movie will provoke. And then,
“I’m sorry about that. I’m sorry about ruining part of the movie. That woman, she was just, well, I’m sorry.”
I turned and a gentleman was standing behind me. I knew what he was referring to of course.
“Thank you,” my response. “I’m glad it all got resolved.”
“Yes, well she left,” his reply. “I brought my friend here with me today, to see the movie. He is special needs see, but he loves trains. He wanted to see the model trains. He has a whole set up himself, even bigger…”
As the speaker continued I glanced over at the friend. Special needs, big smile, not threatening at all, just happy. “I like trains!”
And I became aware of a sense of complete happiness. This gentleman and his friend were misunderstood I believe. Perhaps by someone who wasn’t paying attention, attention to the other story, the story in the audience. But they wanted me to understand. They were aware of the fact that I was affected and that was never their intention.
Sometimes paying attention to others can open your heart.
What the heck? My puppy Willy and I moved towards the kitchen, following the sound. A shadow and movement and the sound of wings followed. “Oh, a bird must have hit the window,” I thought aloud. I peered out to be sure it wasn’t lying injured on the ground but no sign. We turned to walk away. And then,
“Thwack thwack bang!”
Willy looked at me with concern. “I don’t know buddy, what do you think is going on?”
We were under attack. Yup, a robin, a very cranky robin, was flinging himself at my bay window. After several “thwack thwack bangs!” it sat on the railing and POOPED! It was like something out of a Monty Python movie, “I sh#t on you and that bird in your window!”
I looked it up and robins (and other normally lovely birds like cardinals) can be very territorial. They see their reflection in windows and attack. Well this guy has been at it for a few days. It is a morning behavior so I think he sees the reflection when the sun is rising. My research is a bit inconclusive, covering a window may help but it also may send the crazed bird to attack a different window. Geez!
So I am waiting it out. I shoo it away if I can. I’ve partially covered my windows and I wash off the bird poop each day. I laugh though because I can’t believe this is happening to me. It sounds so like a story that would have happened to my mom. Maybe it is a message?
I love book lists. “50 Books Everyone Should Read” and “The 20 Most Anticipated Books” are good examples. Many of the lists have the same books on them, let’s face it there are superstar books!. Then there are the books that you say, “Hmmm, never heard of this one,” or “Are they crazy, that book was terrible!”
Do you ever assess a list based on the books the list compiler chose to include? I do. It helps me decide if it is a list that matches me as a reader. It is a bit snobbish of me because I will literally look down on a list if it contains a certain “type” of book.I know you are wondering, “What type of book would you look down upon?” Well, since that varies by reader I will leave you to decide for yourself.
Another type of list is a Celebrity Book List. Oprah is well known for this. Oprah’s Book Club has reached a milestone 100 books. That means 100 authors had the honor of being recognized on a, perhaps, world stage! My book club and I used to marvel at how many of the books we had already read ended up on Oprah’s list. We thought maybe she had someone spying on us. Oprah was onto something and more “celebs” are joining in. I have discovered great reads from Reese’s Book Club and Read With Jenna, to name just a couple.
So, I’ve decided to include a book list. Here is, “Suzanne’s Five Favorite Recent Reads”. I hope you enjoy, and feel free to judge. It’s ok, we all do it! And send along some love, some book list love that is!
Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver
The Measure by Nikki Erlick
The Wall by Marlen Haushofer
Tomorrow and Tomorrow and Tomorrow by Gabrielle Zevin
Yesterday I went to a Beatles concert at our community college. It was called “Yesterday and Today: the Interactive Beatles Experience”. On the way in, the audience was asked to write their name, favorite Beatles’ song and the reason (story behind) their choice, on a card. The set list was then created from these requests. So much fun but only half the magic.
The other half of the magic was in the stories. The audience, as you can imagine, was comprised of a lot of beautifully aging hippies! I can only claim to be a little bit hippy, I’m a bit young, but it’s a group I identify with! But there were also families spanning the generations from the 9 year olds to the grandparents. Lots of couples of all ages and groups of friends like the group I was there with.
And speaking of those words of wisdom, here are just a few (feel free to hum along) of the lyrics that speak to me.
“Nothing’s gonna change my world”
“If I fell in love with you Would you promise to be true.”
“I get by with a little help from my friends.”
“With a love like that You know you should be glad.”
“Imagine there’s no countries. It isn’t hard to do. Nothing to kill or die for. And no religion too.”
“Take a sad song and make it better.”
“Oh, I believe in yesterday.”
“And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make.”
“In my life, I love you more.”
Thank you, John, Paul, George, and Ringo. Thank you.
Phew! What a gig! Wear fancy clothes, drive hot cars, mouth off about things, trash products you are reviewing, laugh at people and get paid to do these things. All because lots of people “like” what you post?
I was beginning to think, “Is this was what the world is coming to? Why are we wasting time on this stuff?” But that is just my opinion. I don’t like to spend large amounts of time watching people in short videos on my phone. I don’t like “following”. But that is just me.
There was a time when a band like the Beatles and rock music was seen as trouble with a capital T! “That long hair hippy stuff is going to destroy our culture,” might be heard from a grandparent. Many also had a strong dislike for big box stores and the internet and smart phones when they came in. Many still do. But change is inevitable. It is an energy that forms a cultural wave that swoops up the things in its path. Unless we choose not to embrace it.
I now think that I am recognizing a wave that I just don’t choose to fully embrace. Just like some people did not fall head over heels for the Beatles or abandon their local hardware store for a Home Depot or grab their email address before anyone else could get it or stay up to date with the latest smart phone. And I am ok with that. I think I’m of an age where it’s time and ok to let things pass.
I don’t have to follow the influencers. I don’t have to even understand what an influencer really is (because I seriously think I have it all wrong at the beginning of my post). But I can choose to be swooped up by the wave or let it roll by.
I still have my Beatles and my internet and my smart phones, and my occasional visit to Home Depot (I do prefer local hardware stores). I can let new cultural energy waves swoop me up at times. I can also choose to ignore them (sorry TicToc). There is room in this world for everyone, right?
I’d been hearing them on and off for a week or more. Hearing them but not seeing them. Until a few mornings ago. The honking so loud it sort of echoed against the low mountains to the North. The flock so large I could find and track their path. North, the direction of the path I knew they were following. Spring, the reason they were flying!
“The Canadas are back!”
A grin spread across my face. The Canadas’ return signals warmer weather. Spring was here and their return felt right. Once they fully arrived and took up occupancy in our populated areas we humans would begin to complain about them. But for now seeing them flying in their classic V formation brought joy.
“The Canadas are back!”
Another reason that sentence had me grinning was because of a memory. A memory of my aunt Arline. She was a stickler for things. You know that kind of aunt! You love them even though they hold you to a very high bar. Even though pleasing them can require great effort. Maybe because pleasing them requires great effort!
“Look Arline, it’s the Canadian Geese coming back from the South! It’s Spring and the Canadian Geese are back!” may have been the words that sprung from my 8, or 9, or 10 year old self (it was a long time ago and some details are fuzzy).
“No, Suzanne, the Canadas are back. They are Canada Geese, not Canadian Geese. Canadians are people who live in Canada. The geese you are referring to are named Canada Geese. People are always getting that wrong but I don’t want you to get it wrong,” my aunt lovingly but firmly explained.
I wrote this title a year ago nearly two months after my husband Rich’s passing but I couldn’t bring myself to write the list. The title sat there in my drafts, begging to be written. So here I am, one year (and two months) later, putting some of these feelings to “paper”. I just went right through things as they occurred to me, in no particular order. I’m sure I left things out but I’m ok with that. Sometimes you just need to go with your heart and trust the outcome.
1. He had the best smile. He was actually known for his smile. People who didn’t remember his name would say, “You mean that guy who always smiles?” And when he smiled his whole face lit up. And when that smile was accompanied by his laugh, well the whole room lit up, let me tell you!
2. He could disappear. It’s true! I would walk all over the house, inside and out and he would be gone. And then he would just appear. “I’ve been looking all over for you,” I would say. “I’ve been right here,” his reply. At work the joke was, “Just wait 15 minutes, he’ll come by.”
3. He loved his work. He loved tools and equipment and troubleshooting. If it weren’t for wanting to come home to me he would have popped a cot in his office. Everyone knew this about him.
4. He could not resist teasing people. And he was soooo good at it. I remember calling to bug him to head home (he loved to linger at work). “I’m in Springfield, I’ll be home soon.” Hmmm, I thought to myself, I always call him right when he is in Springfield. “Are you really in Springfield?” Then I got that laugh.
5. He could fix, design, build, and improve anything. He built houses and 9/11 bell towers and 1951 Jeeps. He repaired equipment and appliances and heavy machinery. He designed log splitters and modified tunnel boring machines. He created gardens and stone walls and brick paths. And he enjoyed every moment.
6. He was very brave. He taught me to be brave. And I know he had fears. He talked to me about them. But still, he was brave.
7. He loved his family. Even though he truly would have lived at work because he loved work, he loved his family more. If I complained that he was at work too many hours (14 hour days were not an exaggeration) he would always remind me, “I always come home dear.” And he did.
8. He was very patient. He taught me patience. Our sons followed him all around when they were small with their own little set of tools. He would pause and show them how and wait for them to get out of his way before continuing with whatever he was doing. He never lost his patience. And he put up with me! I take a lot of patience.
9. He was strong and he was healthy. Even as a cancer patient going through a health checklist it was often remarked (by medical staff), “You’re the healthiest person in this room.” And his strength and health stayed with him right up until the end. We didn’t know it was so close to the end because he was so strong.
10. He was the best. The best husband, father, son, brother, uncle, friend, boss, coworker, the best person you could know. Even people who got really mad at him still counted him as one of the best. He left a great hole in our lives but it is a hole full of amazing memories and love. And that is his great legacy. The legacy of a great man.
writintime 