A year later...

My last post was just over a year ago. In the months that followed, my husband nearly died from a bleeding ulcer caused by steroid enhanced drugs. The CPR I learned 40 years ago served us well that night. Since that emergency surgery, he has improved dramatically. We know that this improvement is probably temporary, but we will take whatever we can get. Stage 4 cancer in the spine is no joke. Living with constant pain changes the way people act and react. We need to be kind to each other because we have  absolutely no idea what people are experiencing day to day. However, pain or not, the Man lives the life he has preached and taught for decades. He is still one of the most patient people I know, one of the most empathetic. That empathy has not always served him well. It leads to internalizing others' pain and striving to fix things... everything and anything, important and trivial. Regardless, it is who he is and that will not change. He's tried; it doesn't work. So we live each day in gratitude for our huge store of earthly blessings, all pretty much centered around two sons, their wives, and seven grandchildren. These gifts are eternal beings and our prayer today is that we will always be united in faith, into eternity. I have absolutely no idea what that looks like, but I believe it will be and for now, that's enough. Honestly, living in the present is taking all I have so concern for the future will have to wait. Each morning I stand in front of our house, I take a deep breath and thank God for His goodness. My word for the year is joy; I don't want to forget that. Life, gratitude, blessing, joy. Now.

Anything!

I would do anything; I will do everything possible.

I hate cancer and what it is doing to my husband. I hate that he is in pain, that he is so tired, that even though he is tired he can't sleep well. It is a horrible affliction.

I also hate insurance companies. They don't care about their policy holders. They know that there are great possibilities for remission or cure, but it costs money and these companies are all about making lots and lots of money. Some day they will have to answer for their greed.

I love my husband. I love his patient and steady way of dealing with suffering. I love how he can still make everyone around him smile, even laugh. I love that he tries to hide his pain from me because he wants to protect me. I want him to know that I would share this life we have all over again if given the opportunity. I want to tell him that he has made me wealthier than I ever imagined because I am so well loved. I want to thank him for being such an amazing father, for shaping the lives of two young men who are now great fathers. I want him to stay with me for a very long time - 20 years; I want 20 more years. I want to spare our grandchildren the heartache of saying goodbye too soon. I want him to continue to be the sounding board that our sons appreciate now. I want to serve with him, play with him, just be - be with him - for a very long time.

I don't know what's going to happen. I pray, I beg, I plead, I yield, I submit, I cry and cry when he isn't around. I have to believe, to hope, to trust. I live in the moment to avoid the anxiety of the future. I am hoping that God's plans give us hope and a future - together. I want that.

A Long and Winding Road

The school year was busy - incredibly busy - and toward the end my husband began to deal with extensive back pain. It got so bad that he finally went to urgent care one Saturday, a day I was out to lunch with house guests. Seriously, it hurt so bad he couldn't go to lunch! What started as suspected arthritis in the lower back turned into metastatic cancer in the middle back. We knew on May 27th that we were in for trouble. There was a mass devouring his vertebrae. Our local health care system ran tests... and more tests... right up to the time we were to go to MD Anderson in Houston for T's last appointment with his cancer surgeon from 2004 and 2011. (How ironic is that!) Because we have incredible confidence in Dr. Esmaeli, we sent her the reports that we had received from our local provider, and she asked us to bring the scans, which we did. She passed them on to experts in the field and after viewing, T was sent to the ER and had surgery the next day. CRAZY! However, we learned that it was the same cancer and therefore, cut and burn was the process. To date there is no chemo treatment for this "exotic" strain. Our hope is to work with the University of Washington medical people and get some answers to target this recurring enemy. Texas has been wonderful but the expense of travel and stay has become too much to continue. Our beloved Dr. E assures us that UW is great and we will find experts who will do the right thing for us. 

Now it's August. June and July seemed to never happen. They were hospital and recovery related, not vacation or relaxation. Our children from France are here with our four grandchildren, bringing us such joy and needed diversion. They are growing too fast!

Luca and his dad, Brian

Our older three: Grace (8), Eliott (5.5), Nora (4)

 I am grateful that we won't start school until after Labor Day this year. That extra week is terribly needed! T will complete radiation on August 12th, and we are told that the fatigue will hit about that time. He is still working as principal of our private high school and putting in nearly full-time hours. We expect he'll need to cut back for a bit as he recovers from radiation but we are hopeful that he can still complete the essentials. Time will tell; we are grateful for each day we have together. Our 43-year marriage has had unexpected bumps in the road, but I wouldn't trade this man of love, grace, and integrity for anyone in the world. We are blessed.

Another year; another class

The Class of 2016 - these are my last students who were once my junior high students. In 2006 my husband and I left the Caribbean for a new assignment in Western Washington. The first year in the Pacific Northwest I subbed in a variety of public schools. The following year a friend asked me to apply to teach junior high English at a local Christian school. I did, got the job, and stayed with it for almost six years. In the middle of that year, my husband (the high school principal) let me know that one of his English teachers was leaving mid-year. I jumped at the chance to get back into high school English. It meant, however, leaving a group of students I had for all of 7th grade and half of 8th. It was a bit sad to leave mid-year, but I helped promote and hire my replacement and she was (and still is) amazing at the job. I walked into classes of students who had previously been in my junior high English classes, so my investment has been intense. This year's seniors is the last class with whom I really feel connected. When I started teaching at the high school and this class became 9th graders, they asked if I would stay until they graduated. I promised I would. I have; I will. They graduate in four months. After that, I may still be here and I may not. I will have kept my promise. I feel the itch to move on, a dangerous thing that itch. I've tried to figure it out. It seems that I'm ready for change every five to seven years. It's hard work to change, adapt to new surroundings, new expectations, and yet - it's quite exciting too. If I stay, I will have great students to challenge. If I go - I have no idea. Guess we'll see what happens.

Stress and then some...

We had a crazy week last week - some really tough situations at school that took non-stop days of my principal husband's time and energy. It was extremely draining. By Friday, things appeared to have settled down, and we were prepared to love our weekend. We own a 24 foot camping trailer that allows us to get away to the beach or the mountains for several days at a time. Having skipped camping all summer (it was SO hot) we were eager for our weekend on the Pacific. We packed and headed out by early evening ready to enjoy a stress-free weekend.

A not-so-funny thing happened on the way to the beach; we blew a tire. So scary! We pulled over and with the help of a wonderful state patrolman, got it changed - and went home. The same thing happened last year, so we decided that we were not going out without a spare. Saturday I cleaned house like a crazy woman, and T got several quotes on repairs. It's amazing the damage a flapping tire can cause to the undercarriage of a camper! Toward the end of the day he remembered that we had insurance and started researching that possibility. With a few phone calls today, he verified that our insurance would pay for the repairs! We just saved a bunch of moola! So maybe we will try it again - after it's fixed and has four new tires!

Stress Relief or Seeing the Results of Hard Work

My mother was a master gardener and I think I understand her obsession. We do so much work without seeing any positive results but that is not true about the garden, as our before and after will attest. The Emerson quote that people don't really think belongs to Emerson says it best: To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends; To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition; To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.

I'll go with the healthy child and the garden patch for now.

Yes, quite a messy hillside, but it had potential. My husband had the vision and now it looks like this:

Switch-back trails, flagstone walk, weeded, barked, our place of refuge and peace. I think we'll keep gardening.

En Gedi

This has been a very trying school year. It's not students; they're great. It's not teachers; they're gifted. It's time. We have spent nearly every weekend tied into school stuff. That means no relaxation, no getting away and doing things that give us perspective and rest.

This weekend we left the rat race and hid in a log cabin near Mount Rainier. Actually, my man was supposed to work all weekend at a Spring Fair that really does nothing for the high school, but because he's part of the administrative team, he's expected to be there. Not only was this his birthday weekend, but it was also and will forevermore be, the anniversary of my mother's death. I did not want to be in town. I needed to leave, to do something that would get the image of her sitting on her kitchen floor out of my head. When the man told me about the SF and that we probably couldn't get away, tears welled up and I just had to leave his office. I told him I'd be fine; I'd get over it. But I would not have been fine. He immediately started working toward our weekend away and made it happen. We went to a friend's log cabin, circa 1910 or so, and read and read and read. We hiked some, cooked very little (I precooked everything and the cabin has a micro!), and slept - early to bed, late to rise. It was amazing!

Today is Sunday and missing church is a big deal for the man. So we didn't; we watched a DVD from Ray Vanderlan on Living Water - En Gedi. It just so happens that the cabin is right next to a lively creek; it was a perfect comparison to what we were experiencing. We know we can't stay at En Gedi - oh how I wish we could - but this last weekend, four days, three nights, - was beyond refreshing. It was so perfect. I am so grateful!

The First Easter

It's Easter weekend and I miss my mother. Today is Saturday, the day I always take her to lunch, work at her house or in her yard, listen to her stories or concern for family members. It's been almost a year since mother walked in her kitchen and just suddenly died. We found her, sitting on the floor, the food-scrap container still under her arm. I should be buying a plant to put in her yard, but instead I'll put flowers on a grave that she should be in but is not. She's still on my brother's fireplace mantle. I'm calling him later today. It's time. She gave us instructions; we need to follow them.

As I think of her, in heaven, with a lot of family members including my dad, I know that it is my loss I suffer not hers. She lived and died exactly as she wished. Wow she was strong and stubborn!That combination of Scots and Scandinavian made for a very strong-willed woman.

Happy Easter Mother! I know you are rejoicing.

That Sunday...

Like thousands of other Washingtonians, we spent a recent Sunday afternoon watching football, American football not soccer. It was the craziest game and the Seahawks won, making us happy and the cheeseheads quite sad. Most in our house had given up on the Hawks, but my granddaughter was certain they would win, even though as she predicted, they were the 0 in the 16-0 score at half-time. She was calm and unwavering, a true believer. And she was right!

Back at it...

Summer is LONG gone; we are back at work. This is the autumn of my discontent. I am finally mourning the loss of my mother. It has taken a while because mourning requires time, something that was in short supply when she died and even shorter supply the first few months after her death. I've shed my tears and done everything I think one should do to begin to recover, but I still feel a tremendous sense of loss. Maybe it's because of our Saturday lunches. Every Saturday, lunch out and then projects at Mother's. She preferred to do things on her own, but in these last few years, she acquiesced to my pleas to render some small service when possible. Maybe it was the nightly phone calls... like the one when she didn't answer, and didn't call back, for the first time, ever. I don't know; I just know that day by day, the missing her is very real. I rest in the knowledge that I did everything I possibly could to both help and care for her. I regret only one thing, but it's a big one. I am so sorry I wasn't there when she died. I wish, oh how I wish, I had been there to hold her hand, to pray, to tell her it was okay, she could go because she was ready; she had lived so well. I am so grateful for her, so proud to be her daughter. So... back to work. Maybe that will help, maybe not.

Wonderful Summer!

It has been sunny (only one day of rain) and quite warm for the Pacific Northwest - at least the 80s daily. The best part of our summer was mid-June - July when our French kids and their kids came to stay. What a blast! Being a grandparent is wonderful! Saying good-bye was horrific, knowing it might be another two years before we have the chance to reconnect. I'm hoping not. I "plan" to start saving $$ for a summer 2015 voyage to France.

That aside, it's August. School starts in three weeks... well, kind of. The staff meetings and open house and all of that starts in three weeks. School starts the Wednesday after Labor Day around here. I'm so glad because summer in the PNW is July, August, September! This week I was reminded why we teach. A month ago, one of our alums contacted me through Facebook and asked if we could get together. To me that means they should come over for dinner and a nice long chat. That happened, Tuesday night... five our our former students showed up at our door (I had planned for four but the fifth heard about it and just came - love that) and we had a wonderful dinner together. As we sat out in the back, surrounded by the beautiful yard and great food (I am a good cook!), we listened to their stories of the first year of university. One of ours was at SPU during the shooting last Spring. She shared and we cried, incredible stuff. All had roommate stories, significant other stories, concerns for the future, and one brought a recommendation form for a scholarship. LOL! Love our kids! As frustrated as we get with some of the stupidity that happens around us, we know that impacting kids to be world changers is why we are in education. They will change the world. They are extraordinary!

And now... we're going camping one last time before school starts. It's unlikely that we'll be able to get away again before September. We could probably do something over Labor Day, but joining that stream of traffic just doesn't seem relaxing. This camping trip is again out to the property of an acquaintance, located on the Cowlitz River, dry camping. There's something about no electricity or water that calls us back to nature. Don't get me wrong. We have big batteries and a water tank so we won't do without, but we will use it sparingly since it is in limited supply. The most exciting thing about this trip is that our local kids are camping about 40 minutes away and the oldest granddaughter has decided that she wants to be baptized, so grandpa and I will join them Saturday afternoon and T will baptize his oldest grandchild. My heart is so full that it's leaking out my eyes at this moment. Whatever we do, may we be faithful so that those who come after us will also know the reality of a loving God in their lives.

The Not-So-Merry Month of May... and more

I never expected the month of May to drain me completely dry, but it did. The first weekend I was in charge of logistics for the memorial service for our former music teacher. Mr. S. had a brain tumor and died of a pulmonary embolism. The memorial was on our school campus. The service was held in one building with seating for 500 and the luncheon in the other with tables and chairs for 100. Running between the two buildings in my high-heeled boots made my feet and legs hurt so much. The day started around 9 o'clock in the morning and we got home about 6 that evening. We were so tired. It took a lot of planning and work, but it was a wonderful event.

The next weekend was Prom. Fortunately the junior class president knew exactly what she wanted for this event so all I had to do was print stuff, pack stuff, and show up as the ticket taker and election board for the King and Queen of Prom. It was a fun night, but again, late and tiring. But the worst was yet to come.

On Friday May 16th, we celebrated my husband's birthday. Our older son and his family came over for dinner and we enjoyed a wonderful evening. I usually call my mother every evening. As I sat down in my recliner, so tired, I thought about not calling. I was almost too tired to talk. The phone was on the table next to me or I swear I would not have called. It rang and went to voice message, and I left a cheerful message, saying I would call again in 30 minutes. It was 8:30 PM. After a beautiful day, it was still sunny outside so I figured she was watering her lawn. I called at 9, no answer. Now I was concerned. I called my brothers to see if by chance she was with one of them and such was not the case. My brother who lived closest said he would go over. The house was locked up tight, so he broke a window next to a side door and let himself inside. He found mother sitting on her kitchen floor, long gone from this world. As far as we could calculate, she died suddenly of a blood clot or aneurysm sometime around 10 in the morning. I was/am devastated. It was so sudden; she had not been dealing with any particular issues other than being 85, almost 86 years old. Looking back, she was prepared. She had told me several things over the past couple of months about what I was to do should anything happen to her. I did exactly what she asked me to do. In addition, I planned the memorial for her for the following Wednesday. I wrote the obits, chose the scripture and hymns, wrote the eulogy, ordered the flowers, contacted the extended family, purchased the food for the after-service gathering, and cleaned out a lot of stuff from her house. She would have been please with what I did. I was exhausted.

The next weekend, Memorial Weekend, my hubby, brothers, and I did a thorough sorting and cleaning at mother's. We found important papers, old photos, our report cards, and such. It was a tough weekend.

The next weekend was the senior trip. Twenty-four of our 36 students and I headed down the Oregon coast to a beautiful beach house for four days and three nights of fun. I cooked every meal. I truly didn't mind; I love cooking for a crowd. Of course that meant I did all the shopping the week before. Once I returned home, I told my husband that I couldn't seem to catch my breath. Such a whirlwind. That was May. June has been just as busy with final exams, new senior culminating seminar meeting, graduation, and our kids arriving next Monday for six weeks. Before they arrive, T will head to TX for his annual check up at MD Anderson, the greatest cancer center in the world. He will miss almost 40 hours with our little ones. Poor guy! We are really anticipating some fun times with our sweet youngest grandkids. We'll have birthday parties, beach trips, camping trips, bike rides... lots of fun. Oh, I'm taking two classes this summer also. Yeah, I'm nuts.

I'm still trying to pull myself together. I finished everything at school and walked out of the classroom with no intention of returning for at least two months. I got through my mother's 86th birthday, cried all day, but survived. I think I will titled this year as the one I survived. It's been grueling!

Stick to the Strengths

Or the tale of the depth-perception challenged woman directing the one-eyed man!

What a mess! There are many things I do well. I can house-clean up a storm. I do laundry without effort. I can take care of grandchildren and keep them happy for hours, for days if needed. I can teach children - any age, even math (that I hate) up to about fourth grade! Ha! English, History... no problem; I'll go through high school. Give me a subject to speak on, something I know a little bit about, in five minutes I'll make a speech - in front of hundreds of people. I can do that. What I cannot do is give directions to someone trying to remove a 24-foot camping trailer from a tight, covered drive that is right next to a house. Our house. Our trailer. Somehow, even though my husband is well aware of my level of incompetence, he entrusts me with giving him directions. Oh my... I have no words to describe the past hour and a half, except to say I've been looking at RV covered storage units online. I know we won't rent one; I know this thing will come home next week and we'll somehow get it into its little spot next to our house. I just wish I could wiggle my nose and get it there - in and out - without having to say a word. Oy vey!

Conflict Resolution

We had a very uncomfortable moment in class yesterday. While discussing ideas for a skit, one student became offended and called out another by name - in a brittle, critical manner. This particular student has decided to go to a different school next year and has been heard stating that it's time to burn all the bridges. This is SO unfortunate; it's also pretty immature, something this student doesn't think fits him/her. I vacillate between sadness that it's happening and anticipation of his/her departure. People need to know how to leave well. Yes I have taught the R.A.F.T. method but this student doesn't want to hear it. So today we will deal with conflict resolution in class because the student who was called out by the departing one, stepped up, said sorry, and asked forgiveness. Yeah... a really mature great student!

So Tired but Smiling...

How do you spend Fridays after school? It seems that every week has multiple evening activities, but when it applies to a Friday, I get a bit stressed. The week is long and full; I've taken on a lot more than I should have this year. But when I spend time with these students, I have to recognize how blessed I am.

 On Wednesday, our girls who earned the state championship in Cross Country and Track and Field (for the 8th year in a row) were honored at as outstanding women in athletics by the legislature. Not only are they fast, but they are smart - earning the highest GPA's of all the state teams. One parent made the comment that this is done with no late work and no test re-takes. Evidently such a practice is not common in schools today.

On Friday, we said good-bye to one of our International students. Diego returned to Chile today. Our international students help us recognize that the world isn't all about us! We did a version of a "roast" with Diego, but it was a blessing as we shared good memories and Bible verses to send him on his way.

After school was the Senior Class sponsored Volleyball tournament. All of the students above were my students in junior high. Three years ago, I moved to the high school and have had the opportunity to teach these wonderful teens for their junior and senior lit classes. It will really be hard to let them go, harder than any class I've had, and that's saying something. So as tired as I am, and I am, it's impossible to miss the blessings that are mine. Investments do pay off and seeing hundreds of students launched into productive futures, that's something to smile about: a big return on a personal and professional investment!

Commit and Submit

Ever nearly kill yourself doing something that you know probably won't make much difference in the outcome category? I was there a couple of times this week. Spend HOURS organizing an event for people who don't really care, but the event is expected. That was tough. When it was all over and the debrief of participants completed, I realized my students had the same feeling of sadness that I did. Sure everyone had fun, but some of the attitudes by the guests were just ridiculous. Entitlement, social superiority, egos on steroids... I know these attitudes are simply facades, masks to hide the true feelings these kids bury. But good grief it's frustrating! We committed this event to the Lord, no question about that, which means the outcome is His not ours. Ever feel disappointed anyway? We did. But we're working through it, getting ready to repeat the event with another group of kids who may be more receptive. Some things we cannot fix; we can only commit and submit. sigh.... Too bad that's not easier to do.

Happy New Year!

2014 - Oh my goodness...

I am trying to wrap my head around the fact that we have lived here in this house for nearly eight years.

My husband says that owning a house in not the American Dream but the Nightmare! I just about proved that true yesterday, painting the guest room closet. I believe it's much more difficult to paint a small space than a big one. I had to twist myself into awkward angles to get the job done, but it's done. I have another closet or two to paint but it may have to wait for another week off to do the job. I hate painting but I love a cleanly painted surface.

This weekend I need to take down the tree, the mantle decorations, and the nativities. Sigh... Lots of work head!

Then... back to school. So much to do before finals in two weeks - like write the finals! ugh! I'm not a fan but it is rather expected that English classes have finals. Oh well... onward into 2014. May it be a year that surprises us by bringing out the best in all of us.

Twin Day (x 3)

It's Spirit Week at our high school and today is twin day. My hubby and I planned to go as twins but then his office staff decided they wanted to be part of our family as well. Here we are in all our glory!

Student Leaders

Oh how my life has changed! The teacher who was responsible for student leadership moved to Georgia this summer. Another person was asked to assume this responsibility and did not give her refusal until school had been out for a few weeks. Both of these ladies are younger than my youngest child! And yet, here I am, acting like I have the energy to keep up with some amazing high school students. I've had to quit some other things in order to stay a step ahead but so far, so good. I truly love these students. They have great hearts of service and a lot of innate leadership ability. Plus they're fun!

2013-2014 NCHS Student Leaders

No Excuses

A l.o.n.g. time ago, a friend of mine named Julie stated that the most annoying sound on the face of the earth was that of a whining child. I laughed like crazy. My sons were 2 and 6 so I could relate with her feelings even if I didn't totally agree. As the years have gone by and I have taught school in elementary, junior high, and high school, I would say that the most irritating sound is a kid with a million and one excuses for not doing his part, whatever that is. When I taught junior high, I read the book Do Hard Things to my 7th graders. One phrase in the book "Pursue Excellence, Not Excuses" stuck with me. I wrote it at the top of my white board and any time a student began to give me an excuse for his situation, I would instruct him to read the top of the board. When I moved to the high school, I realized I would have many of my former junior highers again. That's when I decided to make the motto a permanent part of my classroom. I bought one of those rub-on letter thingys, cost a fortune, but it's going on three years old and still well-stuck in place. As I set up my classroom for the coming school year, I looked at those words and realized that they were just as important to me as a teacher as they were to students trying to escape responsibility. I want to do the best I can to prepare students to live well, to be honest and caring, to make a difference in the world. There are no excuses for doing less than my best.

I love the wall of windows and the constant reminder to do my best.

I use the chalkboard wall as a gallery of sorts. Never have cared for chalk!

But I do love books! My loaners.