Help-books and Fun-books....

Just today, I stumbled across the fact that there are actually books out there meant to help people like me. Help-books. Not being much of a non-fiction reader, this fact did not surprise me as much as the number of them available.  The funny part is, I've thought and planned to turn these blog posts into a book, in case they could help someone else that is grieving.  I just didn't know that lots of people have already done that! I'm not sure whether any of them have the plot twist of meeting someone new so soon, as I have. I'm trying to record and remember all the feelings that go with along with it - don't know if any of those other books do that!  I should probably read them all and find out!

Do these books give advice? I think some do. They are meant to be Help-books.  I did peruse one at Barnes and Noble one evening.  It had chapters on everything from immediately after your spouse's death to a chapter called "Widows and Sex".  I did not buy it - I did what anybody would do, looked at the 'good' parts and put it back down.  I didn't really learn anything new or groundbreaking, so you will get no details from me!

I feel a little guilty, though, that I've done all this writing and not read what others have said before me. (I generally feel guilty about most everything, no surprise there!) I've read little bits, just not books.  A blog post is about the right length for my concentration these days. I started reading a John Grisham book that a friend lent me in January.  To me, that's a Fun-book.  It's April and I'm on page 72.  I'm only able to sit for so long until thoughts and ideas flood my brain and I have to just get up and do something.  Sometimes the something is writing down the thoughts.  Sometimes it's cleaning out a drawer.  You never know.

I jump up, do whatever it is I feel needs "doing", and move on to the next thing.  I don't go back to the book. That is not the person I used to be, when a Fun-book could devour my days and nights until I finished it. Readers are a special breed of people.  The list of things we can ignore while immersed in a book can include family, friends, pets, hunger, chores....on and on.  I am one of those, usually, just not lately.

 I did research and read Help-stuff.  Not books. Thank goodness there are web pages and support forums out there that I could read in a 'drive-by' style. They did help, a bit.  But what helped mostly was sitting here and organizing what I was feeling into sentences, paragraphs and full posts.  I've been pretty honest about what I've been feeling for the last eleven months.  I want to remain true to form, just because everyone has been so loving, supportive and encouraging.  Writing these little posts has been my therapy, my meditation, my crutch, punching bag and wailing wall. I think writing took the place of immersion in Fun-books.

I don't think I'll read the other Help-books.  I am moving forward on my own. Well, mostly on my own.  My boyfriend has been through the same loss, so I have a new sounding board; one that has been there.  Perhaps, though, I'll just keep writing in case this one turns into a Help-book itself.  It would be a privilege to help anyone.  Anyone at all.  It's also non-fiction, so I probably wouldn't read it, but that's all right; I'm living a non-fiction life right now and it's turning into a story that I wouldn't put down!

When The Music Starts - My Choir at the Toyota Center! 3/9/14

It was the busiest of weeks.  I define 'busy' as any length of time where your focus is required to be on something besides that which you want to be doing.  So I guess any work day is busy.  But even work days have small breaks, lunch, planning...things like that during which you can take a breath, check your e-mail, look at your phone...without other requirements panting at you like a dog.

The undertaking of an elementary field trip is no small task.  Add in the fact that the little darlings are all in different grades and homerooms, they must wear their choir shirt, they have to perform, and certain paperwork must be turned in on every one of the forty-nine students (49!), and I received a busy week.  I was bombarded by questions, papers, looking for papers, figuring how to collect them and feed them after school, figuring out how to get them on the bus and get to the Toyota Center in time....I worked, planned, e-mailed, texted, made phone calls, and typed up papers. Don't get me wrong, I didn't procrastinate; I've been working on this since August.  It's just that the last week is crunch time, and I wanted to go over every detail as many times as possible. When the music starts, we all need to be ready!  I don't like to be wrong about anything!

I must say a huge 'thank you' to our office staff and all the teachers that helped with the little details.  And I thank the principal for just letting me handle it all and staying out of my way.  I prefer to work unassisted and without a hawk looking over my shoulder, questioning everything I do.  And I got it my way!  Pure luck, I know.  The big day, Friday, rolled around and I was up early.  Packing what I would need and getting dressed and ready.  There was a five-minute space when I, the choir director, could not find my own choir t-shirt.  But it was only temporary, the shirt was found and on with the show.  Headed to school, my choir and I got a shout-out on the radio from local morning show Dean and Rog.  That made me very happy, and I hoped that a lot of our teachers and parents had heard it.  I parked at school, carried in all my 'stuff' and was late for the staff meeting.  Not only late, but had already been mentioned, so everyone knew I wasn't there on time.  I claim Rockets game excuse!

Let it be known that during this day, I taught my full schedule of classes, except when the assistant principal spelled me for thirty minutes due to having won an hour lunch with my team.  I was missing a permission slip, I had to call the parent.  I had no less than four students without their t-shirts, and only five to spare.  I typed an agenda for the afternoon to give my principal, who was riding the bus with us.  I figured out how many students I needed to place on each row for our performance from the stands. I dealt with the fact that my underwire on one side was a goner, and hoped that the effect would not be seen on the big screen.  The day went by.  I left during planning and picked up their pizzas.  I was ready for the crowd immediately after school.

They were wound up, to say the least.  I kept them corralled, with the help of precious friends that volunteered to stay for the pizza portion.  They ate healthy portions, and then the orange things appeared. Those obnoxious blow-up noise makers were springing up all around the room!  I outlawed them immediately.  Do not blow them up, put them away, I do not want to see them.  Little did I know that one parent had supplied her child with enough orange things for every one of the 49 kids to have two!   That's a new rule to chalk up for next year.

We loaded the bus.  The principal, me, the bus driver's family and 49 kids.  We told them:  same rules as always.  The bus driver turned on the radio.  The kids sang and took selfies.  I had to trust that all those ten and eleven year olds were taking decent pics!  It got loud.  We had to tell a few to sit back down.  The principal looked unhappy most of the time.  Half-way there, she informed me that we had a "seat-hopper", so she went and sat toward the back.  I frowned at my children (they know if my smile is gone, it's a biggie) and we rode the rest of the way there.

When you take 49 students on a 90 minute bus ride, restrooms at the destination are of the utmost importance.  When that was taken care of, our escorts took our group up to our spot via the freight elevator! There were some scared little darlings, but I, the fearless leader, told them if they want to be a famous singer or actor, they have to learn about arriving the 'secret way'!  Once in our rows, we waited to sing.  Parents were arriving and bringing their child some food, the arena was filling up, kids were clapping noisy orange things and asking for the restroom again... one mom (who has been precious and helpful and kind for six years now) handed me a bottle of water.  "For you, Mrs. McCarty".  True kindness exists.

We got our three minute warning and the kids put away the orange things and focused.  Once the music started, they were in auto-mode.  They got a little distracted by the big screen, but the sound was amazing - on key, energized and sweet.  I realized that I don't focus on bus behavior or how they interact with each other.  I touch on those things - but what I really teach is how they should act and what they should do when the music starts.  They did it.  I was proud.

The rest of the evening was a nightmare of restroom trips, loud clappy orange things in my ear and a few that couldn't behave. It was also a big win for the Rockets, so that made it fun.  What I am going to choose to remember most is the sound that came from my choir, because what you do when the music starts is really important.