Double Classes and Holding My Breath 4/17/14

Surprise!  The art teacher is sick today and there's no substitute!  "Of course, I'll take those classes.  No problem."  I mean, what choice is there, really?  Somebody has to take the extra group; I have one and PE already has two.  Simple math, the music teacher takes the extra group.

So today, instead of having my usual thirty darlings, I get to control anywhere from fifty to seventy.  Alone.  I've kind of gotten used to alone. Actually, though, that may be changing.

The last time I had to endure double classes, I wrote about taking a breath.  Taking a breath emotionally and letting the realization of  "who I am now" find the cracks in the wall that let happiness shine through like bright summer sun.  I am a little further along that path now.  A journey continues on a daily basis, does it not?  My itinerary has been busy lately.

I have seen the sunshine of happiness and I am now traveling a road of healing.  the care, attention and understanding given to me by Robbie have helped me wake up and realize that joy can be re-discovered in the aftermath of sorrow.  Robbie is traveling the same road, so when we need to take a break and sit on a bench for a while....we do.

Today, although I'm having to monitor double classes, I'm holding my breath - in anticipation.  Robbie, who has kindly traveled the miles to visit me twice already, is visiting again this weekend.  Although we talk very often, it's so much nicer in person. I'm anticipating laughter, serious talk, fun, a little sadness, but mostly a wonderful time.

Even though I had twice the students I usually do today...on the day before a holiday...I can smile on the inside and know that there's someone to listen to me talk about it when I get home. I may be alone in the classroom, but no longer in my spirit. What a difference.  Robbie and I acknowledge our respective tragic pasts and are seeking a happier future.  The sad chapters in our story have come to a close, and some happy chapters are being written.  So talk on, big groups of kids.  I'll hold my breath until 4:00 and enjoy the weekend.

I'm cornbread - Who are you? 12/30/13

Have you ever had a piece of really fine, Southern-cooked cornbread?  Bacon grease, buttermilk, and an iron skillet are all involved in creating the delectable treat.  Its rich, flavorful, crunchy-soft texture makes it perfect as a bread or a "sopper" - a side dish designed to mop up grave or juices so nothing of a delicious meal is wasted.

It's obvious, is it not, that I am a fan of cornbread.  But this story has nothing to do with actually eating cornbread.  There was no cornbread in either of the Christmas meals in which I participated.  Ham was the main dish at both sides of the family's gatherings. The breads of choice were potato rolls and yeast rolls.  No, cornbread just popped into my mind one day.  The sixth day of our holiday trip, I was sitting in the living room with many beloved family members, and the thought just occurred - "I feel like a piece of cornbread.".  I was in the overwhelming emotional state of love, grief, exhaustion, recovery from illness, desire to help, desire to sleep - and I pictured myself as a triangle of cornbread.  I don't mean that I had been stirred and baked at a high heat.  I mean that the consistency and purposes of the piece of cornbread as it sits on the dinner plate seemed to perfectly portray my perception of how I react to all overtures and approaches to me.

First things first - I feel loved. I feel loved by friends.  I feel loved at work.  I especially felt loved when visiting the families this past week.  It's so good to get to see the family.  I love seeing and spending time with everyone.  We're all different, yet all a part of the same group.  I think of it as a meal on a plate - all your different items, and I'm the piece of cornbread.  Nobody would not want the cornbread there - I belong.

I feel covered.  I feel as if everyone wants to spread a layer of protection over me like so much butter!  Thank you, by the way.  I have needed a lot of protection this year.   Sometimes, without that layer of people to step up to others and say "Do you know who this is?" or "Let me tell you what you're dealing with here...", I would have dried up and crumbled away.  Many family, friends, and even social media acquaintances have spread a layer of protection over me by coming to my defense in some matter or sympathizing with their own experience stories that make me laugh and feel as if I'm not alone.

A good cornbread is a little crumbly.  It's a coarse bread, so those pieces sometimes just crumble away. I can identify with the crumbly nature of cornbread.  Innocent things - tv commercials, e-mails, greeting cards, comments, questions, advice - all of those can crumble me in a second.  Just as the fork doesn't mean to hit the cornbread on its way to the vegetables, the world doesn't mean to stab me. My consistency right now makes it easy for little things to just stick in and knock a piece of me away.  If anyone can actually give me a real, factual system for not being too sensitive, I will listen and try it.  How do you change the way you are emotionally made?  The important part, though, is that even though I may get a bit crumbled, so many others are there for me to hold me together.

To know I'm not alone is such an advantage.  There are big chunks of time when I am now physically alone.  (There will be another post someday on the advantages of dogs and cats.)  But I am not alone in any way other than that. Just as all the servings of food on a plate bump into each other, and the juices roll around to be soaked up by the cornbread, I am surrounded, in spirit, with so many of you that drop everything to be there if I call, text,  make a comment, or cry out through a status.  You reach out and I soak it up.  Thank you.  Just as cornbread is made richer by soaking in some juice (I'm thinking good old-fashioned beans and cornbread, a little sausage with it....), I am made richer and stronger by your support.  I am trying to take steps on the road to recovery.  When I stop still and stare, it may be your simple smile or pat on the arm that gives me strength to pick up my foot and take another step.

So, here's to the new year. I can make an honest toast that says "May it be better than 2013."  Even thinking that hurts, though, because 2013 contained my last months of my "old" life.  The life I thought I'd live forever. Thank goodness for the love and ideas and wisdom out there that this little ol' piece of cornbread can soak up. I might sit and stare and act a little bland, but please know I gather in your wishes, hugs and love and convert them to the strength to go on.  Happy New Year.

The Hardest Questions of All. Thanks, Santa. 12/12/13

Little ones ask so many questions.  Personal questions - "How old are you?"  Silly questions - "Can I have that bracelet?"  Blunt questions - "Are those real diamonds?"  But the two hardest questions of all occur this time of year:  "Mrs. Rush, is Santa real?"  followed by "Mrs. Rush, do you believe in Santa?"  Elementary teachers have to face the fact the there are as many levels of belief in their classroom as there are students.  We also have to face the fact that those students believe whatever we say.  We are the teachers.  We speak wisdom and truth!  I bill myself as a teacher that only tells the truth.  So, when I was asked these difficult questions today, as I have been so many years in a row, I gave an answer that has been many years in the making:

"Is Santa real?  Jailynn says he's not."  Oh boy, here we go.  Carefully worded truth. These were second graders.  I personally found out the truth from a kid in my class in third grade.  I was angry and disappointed.  Considering this little questioner was about the same age, I spoke very cautiously:

"Now, my little friends, you might be hearing all sorts of things about Santa from your friends here in your class at school. I think that Santa is very much alive in the spirit of giving.  Different families have different ways that they share that with their kids, so please believe whatever your parents tell you.  This season is about love and giving.  Sometimes we give gifts, sometimes we give a song, sometimes we give our time to help someone.  Santa is one of the leaders behind all that giving, but we are all involved in it.  I hope that you have the chance to give a little bit this season and see how it makes you happy.  Even if what you give is your best smile." (The room erupts into smiley faces.)

"But what about what Jailynn said?"  "Well, her family still believes in giving and being sweet.  Her parents just explain it in a different way from your parents.  But that's ok if the real purpose is being nice."

"Why doesn't Santa bring presents to grown-ups?"  "Well, it's not because all grown-ups are bad.  I'm certainly not bad!" (giggle eruption).  "I think it's because when you are very little you only know how to get stuff.  When you get older, you learn how to give yourself, so Santa doesn't have to give you things to teach you that anymore." (Can we please sing now?)

Then, the granddaddy of them all:  "Mrs. Rush, do you believe in Santa?"  Dead silence.  They think they've got me.  "I have to say yes, my friends.  I believe in Santa as he represents the spirit of giving.  I believe in Santa in the idea that if you are good, good things come to you.  I try to practice that all year long on you boys and girls by giving treasure box goodies to the well-behaved children.  I believe that once you really know Santa as a grown-up, you understand that giving is so much more than a present.  Giving can be a smile, saying someone looks nice, visiting someone, calling them, writing them a note, or singing them a song. This is the truth that Santa represents and in my heart I know it's true.  Believe what your mom and dad tell you. That will be different for everyone in here, but don't we celebrate differences at our school?" (Nodding heads) "Santa wants you to grow up to have a giving heart, so he sets the example."  (Quiet.....)  "Now let's sing - please give me some beautiful songs with beautiful voices today!"  Smiles - music - action.  Thanks, Santa.

A Fingernail Fable 12/8/13

Friday morning hurry-up.  All my fault, because I just didn't want to get out of bed.  Have you ever been there?  Life is happening outside your bedroom, outside your house, people are driving, drinking coffee, already having meetings......and your bed is just so warm and cozy that it's an actual argument with yourself to throw back the covers and stand up.  We've all been there, I guess.  When I do that, I can adjust the getting ready and still make it to work on time, but I still hurry.  So during the hurry-up, I bent a fingernail backward trying to fasten my seat belt.  A small reminder to slow down, it's all going to be there, whether I hurry to fasten the belt or do it at normal speed!  Smoothing down the fingernail, I drove to work.  The school was still there.

I'm not used to having any sort of long fingernails.  A combination of weak nails and piano playing has always left me without nails as an accessory.  Except for the few years of fake nails, they have always just been short and.... there.  In the past eight months, they're stronger.  They grow.  I have to cut them and file them down.  It's very strange to me - did a chemical change happen in my body when I entered grief? Or was it due to happen anyway?  I don't know, but I do know that these knives that extend from my fingertips - and the care they require - is a new sensation.

Later Friday evening, the same backward-bent nail caught on something.  You know, that sensation when it brushes cloth and you feel that little drag?  I took a look.  There was a cut in the middle of the tip.  Not a big one, but like some tiny scissors just made one cut.  I went to the place where I now keep the clippers and newly-acquired file, trimmed it and filed it smooth.  It lost a little length, but it's still there.  I suppose that was the price of decorating the tree.  As Saturday came and went, more nails lost their way to the housework/decoration activities.  They were shorter, but they were still there.

Today, Sunday, makes eight months since he's been gone.  I don't really put much stock in anniversaries, but having made this portion of the grief journey personally, I see a truth.  I slowly file away my old life.  It's still there, it's just shorter.  I can buy the low-fat eggnog now, there's nobody left to complain about it.  When it's just me home, I have music playing.  When it was just us, it was always the television.  Still the same machine, just different.  When a situation changes, I adapt.  Humans adapt.  The situation is still there, but we carry on and find ways to make it. 

Adaptation isn't easy.  Sometimes it even hurts!  I took all the lights off the fifty-foot long stair garland yesterday.  Those lights have been wound around that garland for so many years that they were caught in the little wires in certain places.  As I separated the lights from the thin little wire inside the garland, I felt the thin wire slice right under my fingernail.  OUCH!  Who says decorating for Christmas is fun!  After I finished the garland experience, (a new garland is now required....) I checked the fingernail damage.  Sure enough, trim it, file it, it's still there.  Only I think the cut might leave a little scar.  And so it goes - the old life is still there, it's just been adapted, filed away, had its shape changed......with a few scars to show for the hurt along the way.

My (burned out) light bulb moment 12/1/13

I have been shoring up the defenses.  "The holidays are hard...".  Every friend that has recent experience with loss, everyone with one ounce of common sense even, will share that information with me.  Not to be mean, just a way of saying they understand, they commiserate, they're there for me.  So I prepared.  I have stayed busy.  I had company.  I had the kids around.  I cooked.  We shopped.  Busy, busy, busy.  The holiday, Thanksgiving day itself, was great.  We had fun.  It wasn't until today, with everybody gone again, that the reality, and the realization of what "The holidays are hard" really means. 

Dropping nephew Zach at the airport on Saturday was bittersweet.  We love that kid. (Not really a kid, but a kid to me!)  We'll see him at Christmas, so we said goodbye, and headed on to more busy-ness.  The girls crammed in last minute shopping and nails, then spent the last night with their respective friends.  The quiet was relaxing.  I watched a little TV with kitten Isis on my lap, then went to sleep knowing it was the last night of a full house.  Still, I thought I was prepared.  The holiday was past, I made it, no breakdowns.  I had answered everyone that checked on me.  I held my head up, I held grief at bay. 

Unfortunately, all my shields can't stop the slow tide of sadness that creeps around the edges and invades my mind and my heart.  I noticed the feeling before the girls even woke up.  I did the usual, and hid it away.  Even my own mom says "she hides it very well....".  I can't help it, it's natural.  We got the girls fed, packed and ready.  Little Isis got in the car, and they were off down the road.  One or two tears rolled, but I found things to do. 

After I finished a few regular chores, I decided I could at least put up the Christmas tree.  We didn't get to that.  No decorating, just put together the three pieces of the pre-lit tree.  Easy, and a start.  I love this tree.  I've only had it two years, it's ten feet tall, pre-lit and beautiful.  I brought it in, got started, and when I got to the top, the third piece, one whole section of lights was burned out.  I unplugged and re-plugged.  I changed the fuse.  I changed three bulbs and said forget it - I'm going to get a new string of lights and just put it on top of those. 

I threw on a decent shirt, put on my shoes and drove to Walgreen's.  Two strings of clear lights were left, and one of them was mine.  I paid, got in the car and wham - it hit me.  I sobbed so hard on the way home I'm surprised I could drive.  I kept thinking "This is what everybody told me - the holidays are hard!"  It wasn't putting up the tree, it wasn't even the burned-out lights. He would not have fixed the lights - the tree was my domain. The big sadness was having to face and deal with the problem in silence.  I would have been able to complain to him.  Those burned-out lights actually gave me a bright "light bulb moment" of my own.  A huge part of our married life and any family life is that we can complain to each other.  And, being married, or being family, you support that other person.  I miss the person I could "bitch to".  I miss him making fun of me when I complained about silly things.  That's why I think the holidays are hard - there are more very happy and very stressful moments than at other times.  And sharing those moments is a habit.  I had to have a good cry about missing my sounding board.  The expected holiday breakdown had arrived, uninvited and unwelcome.  It passed when my super-friend made me get up and walk, as we do most nights.

After the walk, I put the new lights around the dark area of the tree.  It looks perfect now.  What's dark can be made light again.  The burned-out bulbs are still underneath the new ones, though.  Hopefully they "hide them very well".  Bring on Christmas.  I'm carrying my tissues.

Holiday Lessons from the Animal Kingdom - or - Why the Cat Threw Up 11/27/13

The cat threw up already.  It's only Wednesday, day BEFORE Thanksgiving, and there's some purging going on around here. Poor Roxy.  She's not really purging, you all know cats don't do that, right?  But she is suffering a common holiday malady: invasion of space and routine.

I love the holidays.  I love time off work, I love seeing family and friends.  I'm especially grateful to not only have my precious girls home from college, but nephew Zach visiting as well.  We are knitting together a united front against the sadness of missing Scott.  We are staying busy, either running around or binge TV-watching.  And of course, cooking and eating.  So far, so good. And, before you read any further...he is the perfect guest, he's family, I do my thing and don't stress. All reflections in this blog came to me as - yes - Roxy threw up.

Along with the college girls comes Isis, the college kitty.  She's about six months old and cute as can be.  She's gotten much bigger since leaving here in August.  I no longer have to block the spindles on the upstairs overlook for fear that she will wiggle through and fall to the first floor, as she did in July.  She has her own opinion about where she wants to go and which other animals she likes.  Basically, it's nobody.

Now to be fair, the other animals either hate her or want to play too rough.  (55-lb dog vs. six-month-old kitten, you know?)  So everybody is walking around all stressed out.  Except maybe Gordon, the big dog, he only wants to play! I wish it were easier and faster to say to animals: "You're in this together, now let's be nice to each other!"   It occurred to me, just after Roxy lost her breakfast this morning, that the last time she did that was when Isis was here.  My cat gets stressed and throws up!  I know, gross. 

But how different is that from any of us that are hosting or visiting over the holiday, and have our routine interrupted?  Do we embrace it or does it just make us a little sick or even ruin our day?  I personally embrace change of routine on my terms.  For example - yes, I will have kolaches for breakfast one morning, but it's back to the cereal for me after that! I love people being around, having fun, especially if they are the kind of people that I can say "Do your thing, I'm going in here for a while!" 

I hope that all my friends and any other readers and find a way to enjoy and celebrate the disruption of routine that comes with holidays on their own terms.  My animal friends can't talk with each other and discover that they really don't have to stress.  Roxy is growling at Isis as I type this!  We can, however, be truthful about our feelings in a considerate way, and make non-routine days work nicely! Whoever you spend your holiday with, you and those people are a united front against the sadness, heartbreak and grief in the world.  Laugh together, cry together, gorge on that meal together......Together.  And no throwing up.  (at least, not from stress!)  Happy Thanksgiving, I'm thankful for all of you.

How Gratefulness Fits 11/3/13

I saw a couple of posts on November 1st.  "I am thankful for..."  Some even included the "30 days of thankfulness" challenge.  It's a great exercise, coming up with something different and not necessarily the same cookie-cutter sayings.  Some of the ones I read are quite amusing.  I considered trying it, but I just can't.  It's not that I don't have so much for which to be grateful.  It's just that I; 1) am afraid to commit to anything not required right now and 2) am afraid that rooting around in my brain for something new every day will dredge up anger and hopelessness instead of thankfulness.

I am probably one of the most grateful people in the world this year.  Yes, I am a widow.  But, as my widow friend Ann says (about herself, and I am in agreement about me), I am in better shape than 90% of any other widows.  He left us in good shape financially and that enables me to face the rest of life, even if it is without him.  I don't know what shape I would be in if that were not the case.  I don't even like to think about it.  He left us the greatest gift he could by being smart with financial planning, and for that I am repeating "thank you, thank you so much" in my head at all times.

I am so grateful for my family. My precious girls have stepped up and shown themselves to be determined to do well in school and help out when necessary by working also.  My Mom and Dad are there whenever I need them, as are my sisters. Scott's family is still my own - they check on me and let me know I still belong with them.  I am grateful for my "family of friends" (sorry, Peter Frampton, I had to borrow that!), the ones that make sure I get out and do things and don't become a hermit, and the ones that take the time at work to stop, talk a minute, be there at special events - I am surrounded by wonderful, smart, kind people.

I am grateful for my job.  Even though I get ready every morning in an empty house, and make sure I turn off everything before I leave, because nobody else is there, within an hour or so I'm in a noisy, boisterous, mostly happy crowd of children.  They are funny, they are smart, they are like sponges when I find the right presentation of my subject (or any other item up for discussion!)  You know how you tear your cuticle, or get a paper cut on your fingertip?  And then when you put a Band-Aid on there kind of tight, it doesn't hurt as much?  That's how I feel during the school day.  I feel as if there's a tight Band-Aid around the pain and it simmers down and lets me teach and enjoy my little darlings.

At home, the Band-Aid feeling kind of disappears, but there are four lovely creatures that do their best to annoy soothe me.  How did we ever end up with four pets?  Cuddles, Marylebone, Roxy and Gordon are the light of my home life.  If you do have pets, then you know that their personalities are individual and adorable.  Some days, I know I have to get out of bed, only because Cuddles has to have her thyroid medication. When I get home each day, the house is not empty.  I am greeted by loads of tail-wagging and meowing.  Some nights, when I can't sleep, both dogs snuggle close to me, whether I talk or cry.  And Roxy, well, Roxy just doesn't let anyone do anything she doesn't like, and insists upon them doing what she does like.  (In a very loud voice, of course.) Thank goodness, one of the things she does like is sitting on my lap and being my friend.

So, you see, I am extremely thankful.  I love the fact that America has a Thanksgiving Day, but even more, I love people that keep thankfulness in their hearts all year 'round. Thank you notes, Facebook messages and statuses, e-mails, phone calls, cards.......I'm not perfect, by any means, but I try. My friends do, too.  You, my friends, are welcome to show the social media world the 30 things you are thankful for each day this month - I enjoy reading them!  But I know you better than that.  I know that you are grateful for life and its blessings year-round.  As am I.

Have-tos and Shoulds 11/2/13

What a week!  I knew I was a little behind on sleep/chores/TV due to my manic birthday weekend.  I didn't expect the compilation of all the tiredness/busy-ness/catching up to kick my butt all the way to Friday. But so it did. There is so much that I should be doing!  I sit now, typing, waiting for cold medicine to unclog at least one nostril so I can try to take a little nap.  How did I get to this point?  I don't really want to ever be dependent on anything - especially to unclog any part of me!! Let's see if I can re-trace my steps and find what little misstep led me here.

Last Friday, 10/25:  Got the flu shot.  Generally a good idea.  A little sore arm later in the day, but mentally anticipating wonderful health all winter while everyone else shivers, coughs, and sneezes.  Perhaps it is to blame for this malady I am suffering a week later?  It wouldn't be the first time that my superior attitude has made me pay a hefty price. Who knows?

Last weekend:  Can't be to blame, tiring but wonderful.  I did spend each weekend day in very public places, perhaps being exposed to new germs, even though I am an extremely careful hand-washer.  For the most part, though, a wonderful weekend.

Monday:  Ah, school.  Nothing like a day at school to turn on the auto-pilot.  Get up, get dressed, put on makeup, drink coffee.....I've taught meter a thousand times, and beat vs. rhythm even more.  I was so determined to not let the busy weekend affect me (like an old person...) that I went straight for my walk after work, then went to the grocery store.  I came home, had dinner and caught up on two sitcoms before watching 'Dancing With the Stars'.  Ok, kind of an old person anyway, but a decent day.  I always play Candy Crush while watching 'Dancing'.  Near the end of the show, my phone just turned off.  Never to come back on.  Instead of heading to bed to beat the 11:00 hour, I was on the phone with Verizon, who had me try some phone gymnastics, none of which did anything.  At that point, they said they would send another phone overnight, but it wouldn't ship until Tuesday, so I wouldn't get it until Wednesday.  I convinced myself I could survive and went to sleep.

Tuesday:  It feels weird to spend a day without a cell phone.  I notified those closest, and survived it, but it feels weird.  I felt a little sad all day, not being able to peek at social media and see what all my friends were up to!  I also found out that I had done something in the wrong order at work, which would reflect on someone else.  Of all the "things" that happen in adult life, I get most depressed if something I do gets someone else in trouble.  Evidently, in the district, before you order t-shirts for a group, you are supposed to request a purchase order and guess how many will be ordered.  If you wait until the actual number of orders, money and invoice have come in, you've done it wrong.  Go figure.  (It did make me feel a little better that an administrator had made the same mistake..) I felt down, sad, tired, and went home with every intention of taking poor Cuddles (also known as thyroid-cat) to the new vet.  I sat down.  I got sadder and more tired.  I called my mom and cried.  I felt the weight of all the 'shoulds' in my life, and the fact that only I'm left to do them.  I didn't take Cuddles on Tuesday.  I put in for a half-day sick day on Wednesday to take care of that and get some rest, or do some "shoulds". 

Wednesday:  Early morning choir!  Yes, an extra rehearsal for my babies, to help memory for Saturday's performance. I just torture myself, don't I?  Gladly taught the morning through, knowing I could leave at noon.  Nobody had picked up the substitute job, though.  That is not my fault or my responsibility.  I followed the correct procedure for entering an absence.  Somehow, though, we are made to feel guilty that somebody will have to cover if we're out.  Guess what?   I stopped feeling guilty about that last May.  I am allotted a certain number of sick  and personal days, and it's no body's business when I take them and what I do with them.  The district (or better yet, the bosses) can get over it.  One friend this week told me that one of the bosses actually asked her if she really needed to go to the doctor, and asked what she was going for!  Pretty sure that's illegal......I actually hope they ask me that sometime!  That friend has accumulated over fifty days, by the way.  Anyway, as I taught through the morning, I felt sniffles, a sore throat and a headache.  Whatever sickness karma there is was telling me if I was going home at noon, by golly, I was going to be sick!  I managed to take Cuddles to the vet, first of many visits to solve many problems, then went home and rested. Got the new phone.  It didn't work.  Called Verizon, they sent another.  Holy cow!  Felt worse.  Couldn't breathe, didn't walk, tried to go to bed early, another choir rehearsal awaited in the morning!

Thursday:  Halloween!!  Super Duper Rain!!  Sure enough, very rainy, flooded streets, the 25 minute drive took 45 minutes, sniffy nose, worried about choir, t-shirts, many other things.  But children?  They don't care about any of that if it's Halloween!  They only know that candy is in their future!  I have this to say to all of those who nay-say Halloween based on any origin involving evil........for the past fifty years, it has been about nothing but merchandising.  Costume and candy sales with the easiest target consumer in the world - the kid.  Kids don't care who you worship as long as they get some Skittles.  Just have fun!  (In saying that, attending some of the church -sponsored 'trunk or treats' have been our most fun years!)  So school was busy, because the kids have to be distracted from the fact that it's Halloween!!  The t-shirts arrived, all work was completed, move on to the evening.  I was a zombie.  No, I didn't dress up.  I just couldn't breathe or taste, so I sat back and let everybody else celebrate, eat, trick-or-treat. I set up the second new phone.  I answered the door.  I hope I didn't pass out too many germs with the candy!

Friday was an exhaustion day.  In preparation for Saturday's concert, t-shirts were passed out, music and sound equipment packed up, last minute e-mails answered and sent, and all by sore, tired, can't-breathe me.  I went home, and prepared for a nap.  Unfortunately, I have to be able to breathe through my nose a bit in order to sleep.  I will let you know what worked and how this ends.  I got so tired typing all of this that I thought "No wonder I got sick - just think how tiring it is actually doing all that!"  And that, my friends, is dedicated to every teacher everywhere.  Just do the "have-tos" and maybe you'll have a little left for the "shoulds".  If you don't, there's always the weekend.

The Next Section of Road 9/29/13

The weather is changing.  October will be here in a couple of days.  The kids at school will get to sing "October, Rocktober"!  The choir will scurry to learn all the holiday songs that they must know for concerts at the beginning of November.  Another group of second graders will do the cutie-pie Turkey Follies show.  The fourth graders will start work on their Holiday show.  I'll be busy.  But I'm scared that busy won't be enough.

I used to be so excited when October first arrived.  It meant my birthday was only twenty-three days away, then Halloween, then Thanksgiving, then Christmas!!  Zoom, the holiday season started rolling on October first and never stopped.  That's why I'm scared.  The beginning of Autumn through the chill of Christmas and the New Year is one long holiday.  Yes, certain dates are on the calendar for Thanksgiving, Christmas, New Year's day....but all of us, commercial entities and families, take this season to celebrate.  Non-stop. Food. Decorations.  Parties.  Cards. Gifts.  Travel. Family. Costumes.  Even pet costumes, if you are in my family.  I'm scared that every single day between October first and the back-to-school time in January is going to be a very difficult section of the journey. 

The few cooler days that suggest Autumn in the deep South are invigorating.  "The high today is only going to be eighty-eight!!" You hear it all around.  Everyone switches from cool clothes in summer colors to cool clothes in Fall colors.  Any Autumn weekend where people wake up to cooler temps for a few hours of the day finds them running off to the farmer's market or an Oktoberfest in some community.  We grab at any hint of a break from the heat and call it Autumn.  Never mind how much you're going to sweat at that festival or game.  Fall has arrived!  I always felt the excitement just like everyone else.  But I'm starting to understand why holidays are huge mountains to be scaled on the road of grief.

I'm trying to prepare my mind and emotions.  That's what I do, that's how I've been handling things.  I remind myself that certain days/occasions/tasks are going to be more difficult.  I then carry on through those things by allowing the memories and thoughts, giving them a minute and trying to move on.  I carry tissues in case I don't move on too quickly.  I surround myself with people.  I go different places.  I have started to do different things when home alone.   He used to have the television on during every waking hour.  I choose music.  I'm kind of tweaking life to sidestep sadness.  I don't think it's a cop out, because the sadness still gets in there a lot of the time.

I also have a lot of help in handling things. My beloved girls will be home for the holidays, and they are the best medicine for anything, as well as the ones that share my feelings.  Besides being a good friend, Meiling is the one that checks on me daily and watches for any sign that I need time, an ear, a shoulder, or Mexican food.  Thank you my friend for being such a good "keeper" to me and my zoo, that's why my mom won't let you move away.  Other friends, at work and far away, call and message all the time.  That is still important.  I love it.  Family is forever there.  Mom is always there.  Thank you.  And how precious is it that nephew Zach is flying in for Thanksgiving week?  Just the right tweak can make anticipation not completely sad.

In spite of all the help, I still must travel the holiday season part of the road.  I have read suggestions "just skip Christmas", "celebrate at a hotel", "light a candle for memory".....many ways that people in the same situation have chosen to travel their difficult stretch of the road.  But will any of that change my feelings and memories?  How will I not think, on my birthday, of him giving me the beautiful diamond band last year, and saying "Well, you are fifty, after all."?  How will I not think of him not being here most Thanksgivings, but always getting the turkey leg when he was?  How will I not remember how proud he was of the custom-sized nylon straps he made at the office and brought home to hold the Christmas tree box closed?  We had a life together for twenty-eight years.  It's impossible not to think! 

I will allow the memories.  I will try to move on.  If I can't, I will cry for a while, then move on.  I will appreciate all the family and friends that are there for me.  After the holidays are over, I'll probably go on that site and write my own suggestions for 'surviving the first holiday season without a loved one'.  But I will know that every road has different obstacles.  I'm just preparing for mine.  Since October arrives in two days, I have to put on my helmet and hold on to the rails. Walk with me, cheer me on, give me a cup of water.....the trek has begun.