Homecoming

This past weekend Rachel, Meredith, and I went to Freed-Hardeman's homecoming. Rachel and Meredith saw quite a few people they knew, but none of my former classmates were there. If they were, we failed to see (or recognize) eachother--it has been 35 years! It's difficult to believe that so much time has passed. I remember fondly the school, the people, and the good times we shared.
Rachel's friend Kelda, a former classmate, hosted a breakfast at her home in Henderson on Saturday morning where Rachel, Kelda, and three other classmates were able to renew their friendship--and enjoy the delicious breakfast that Kelda had prepared for us. The girls met up later in the day for their five-year reunion luncheon where they saw other of their classmates. I enjoyed listening to them as they reminisced together.
Meredith stayed in the dorm so she could be with her friends as much as possible. . . . literally, as much as possible. They stayed up until 4:30 on Friday night (Saturday morning), but went to bed earlier (3:30 a.m.) the next. Talk about burning your candle at both ends! Had I stayed up that late two nights in a row, I'm afraid my candle (wick and wax) would be totally extinguished. Rachel and I met up with Meredith periodically over the weekend-- she and some of her friends met us for meals a couple of times.
The best part of the trip for me was my being able to spend time with my girls. Now that Rachel is married and living in Alabama, there never seems to be enough time to do what we want, or for me, to say everything that I'd like to say. Even though Meredith is currently living at home, events like this give us "together" time and new shared experiences. It's also fun to tell eachother about our individual experiences at FHU. I'm so thankful that I'm able to spend times like this with the girls.

This is why.....

A special needs student has been coming to the library for the past several weeks guided by her teacher who tells her each time to bring her books to the checkout desk to check them in and then again to check out one or two more. Although I thank her each time for bringing me her books, and even though her teacher has instructed her each time to say something specifically appropriate such as "Thank you," she doesn't appear to respond to anything that I say to her. After she had visited the library a couple of times, I asked her teacher something about her disabilities in the hope that I might help her in some way and was told that her disabilities include visual, social skill, and communication problems. He also told me that she loves books, so I asked about her interests in the hope that I could help her find something she would enjoy.

When she has arrived in the library each week, I have had a specific book ready for her on a variety of topics--dogs, planets, rabbits, etc. Each time, she takes the book, and holds it tightly to her chest. Her teacher instructs her to thank me, and sometimes, if I listen very carefully, I may hear a slight sound that I assume is her thanks.

Today when this young girl returned to the library to exchange her last week's selections for something new, I showed her my most recent choice for her, a book about hamsters. I also went on to tell her about Joe Dirt, the hamster that our son, Joey, rescued from abuse and then brought home to live with us. As she stood next to me, her instructed "thanks" was, again, barely audible, but when I looked at her, I saw that she was moving her lips as though she was blowing me two kisses and then repeated the action. As I kissed her on the cheek, I was so moved by her own personal expression of thanks.

Although I don't recall the exact moment that I decided to become a teacher, I do know that my decision was made sometime between my sophomore and junior years of college. I also believe that certain of my own teachers influenced that decision. In the course of the past 30 years, I have found that teaching is seldom easy, is often frustrating, but is also very rewarding. On a few, rare occasions, I have even wondered if I had made the right choice. Today, however, I have no doubts about my decision to become an educator--I know it was absolutely the right decision!

Expo

This morning I went to a book expo in a small town near our home. Quite a number of Kentucky authors were showcasing the books that they had written. This was a new experience for me, and although interesting, it made me a bit uncomfortable. I felt like I needed to show an interest in every author's writings, but then felt guilty because I couldn't purchase a book from each one. I did buy a cookbook published by Moonlight Bar-B-Q, a well-known restaurant in Owensboro, Kentucky. If I don't feel guilty about one thing, I feel guilty about something else!

Time

Time has been on my mind quite often recently. This is due in part to my sudden awareness of my own age. One of my grandmothers told me many years ago that she felt the same inside as she did when she was a young woman; only the outside had changed. I have come to realize exactly what she meant. I also realize, however, that others' perception of us also changes as we get older. I now realize that the students--and teachers--that I work with each day are unable to see the young woman inside of me. Well, I'm straying from the point. . . Another reason time has been on my mind has to do with my Aunt Lorene, one of my Dad's two surviving sisters who suffered a massive stroke about three weeks ago and hasn't regained consciousness; the doctors hold out little hope. It seems like such a short time ago that I was a little girl visiting with her and her family when we all lived in California. It was in her home that I first ate and developed a "love" for tacos, and it was also in her home that my obsession with large Christmas trees began. At that time, my parents and I lived in apartments or small houses where there wasn't enough room for a full sized Christmas tree, so we had "table top" Christmas trees for several years. If you've never had one, you really haven't missed out on anything. When I went to Aunt Lorene's and Uncle George's house, however, they had a Christmas tree! Their tree would have never fit on a table because it stretched all of the way from the floor to the ceiling. The awe that I felt still lives in my mind to this day and has shown itself throughout the years in my attraction to large Christmas trees, often ones that were not really practical for the rooms in which they were to be displayed, but they certainly were beautiful!

My aunt's current condition has reminded me of these and many other pleasant memories, but I have also been reminded of the brevity of life as well as the importance of treasuring each day and of using well each moment. When I think of the wasted time and opportunities in my own life, I am saddened. However, I also realize that regret is a terrible waste of time; instead, I hope to use the time that I am given more wisely each day.

"Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that is the stuff life is made of." ~Benjamin Franklin

Verbosity

For those who may read my blog--and who do not know me well--you may discover over the course of time that "Brevity" is not my middle name. I've been trying to add the various fields that I see in other blogs, but find that when I view the finished product I seem to have exceeded the boundaries of each section; they just seem to go on, and on, and on. . . . If you talked to Mike or my children, they'd certainly tell you that I can't tell a short story or get directly to the point. Yes, it's a fact--I do tend to tell a long short story, but I just want to be sure that everyone fully understands all of the details. I guess that's the teacher in me; I always wanted to be sure that my students had all of the information that they needed to pass the upcoming test! I do realize, however, that I ramble at times. Oh, well, if nothing else, you can use my blog as a sleeping aid when you have insomnia. Have a good night!

Post Number 1B--I Hope!

Although I thought I had entered the 21st century when I started using an answering machine (that would be earlier this year), no one can now deny me a place as a user of modern technology. No, I didn't set up my own blog, nor did I write the first post (my daughter Rachel gets credit for both); I, however, have managed to get to the right area for creating a post (once Rachel told me what my login name and password is) . Eventually, my daughter(s) will stand in awe of my capabilities as a blogger, for as so aptly stated by the female protagonist of one of my favorite movies, The Mummy, "I am a librarian."

First Post

Hey mom! I started this blog for you so get going! I know it will be great. Love RG