Hola! Hello! I have not felt like blogging much lately, as you may have noticed. Sometimes I feel so excited about blogging and at other times, I shrug it off like a wet coat. I’m in a tea-drinking-chocolate-eating mode right now, so I’m joining the weekend coffee share hosted by Eclectic Alli. She’s in the field of library science, which looked to be a dinosaur at one point. But it’s reemerging through technology and that kind of degree can now open more than library doors.
The point of this blog is to share what’s been going on in my life, so here’s a glance.
The honeysuckle and privet hedges around here have been blossoming, their fragrances assuring me I don’t have the virus. Sadly, spring has started drowning in early summer heat and humidity. Speaking of drowning, I’d love to go swimming instead of walking, even with a hole in my head ear, but who knows when indoor pools will reopen? I do know that my knees can’t take much more walking.
On the topic of “can’t take much more,” how will students and families and school districts solve the conundrum of back-to-school in the fall? From an equity standpoint, we already poorly navigate educational waters with students of color and families in poverty. How much more have we curtailed their prospects now that learning is remote? What good is a Chromebook if there is no connectivity? That begs the question of how well students work in small quarters with larger families whose parents are unemployed or working long hours out of the home.
In my neighborhood, we had teddy bears in windows so that kids on walks with their parents could wave. Just saying.
My dearest teaching widower has a week of radiation under his belt. He’s still as sweet as ever. My great nephew is continuously looking for ways to help around the house. They watch tear-jerker movies together and I join them to watch action flicks. They drink coffee and I drink Tetley’s English blend. We all eat chocolate.
I’m joining Eclectic Alli’s Weekend Coffee Share, despite the cup of tea in my hand and bits of Cadbury milk chocolate on my shirt. SHH! It’s been a week of increased prayer, chocolate, and bible reading.
My dearest teaching widower has recovered quickly from surgery and starts radiation treatment soon. He’s such a sweetheart! [I just remembered that our anniversary is next month! Wow! I will get an extra point for that. We hardly ever celebrate it, but whoever remembers it first gets a point. I’m racking it up this year.]
Speaking of sweet men, our 18-year-old great nephew (GN) has now been living with us for a month. What a challenge for him! He’s already learned that folks in their seventies are hard of hearing and addicted to chocolate. GN’s partial to sour gummy worms but I do share my chocolate stash. I think that’s true love.
I’m so happy! Having GN here has reminded me of the peace in our lives, the joy of sharing movies, and the immense privilege of being saved. Thank you, Jesus!
My dearest teaching widower (DTW) has come out of surgery and is in recovery. This is just the start of our new adventure with cancer. We have many dear ones praying for us!!
This hospital is SO empty! They have us in the ICU area which makes me especially glad we’re not in NYC. The closest tv is all about the virus and I’m sitting with a bunch of other masked women waiting for their DTW’s. Women are hardy stock, right?
I’m grateful that I’ve been asked many times how we’re doing. In fact, that was the first thing I asked my DTW after the diagnosis. He said, “It is what it is. God has always been faithful to us and always will be.”
Our Father never changes. He’s been with us in all our adventures. He hears every cry, sees every tear, and holds us close at every moment. This is no different.
I’m SO grateful that Jesus picked me up as I crashed on the dead end road of my life in 1988. I was shattered and not looking for him, that’s for sure. In fact, I mocked people who loved him. As we face the unknowns of the coronavirus and economy, I am grateful that God hunted me down, hounded me.
My DTW has developed a serious health issue and will need surgery in a couple of weeks, and we are still trusting God and his faithfulness to us. We know we’re not here permanently and we eagerly await seeing Jesus face-to-face. Sometimes I ask him to beam me up, but I know I cannot lengthen or shorten my life. Every day has been written by him.
So what are we doing? Praying and trusting God. Plus, my dearest teaching widower and I have been binge-watching Containment, a 2016 series we’d never heard of. The show is about a deadly engineered virus; we’re only halfway through so I can’t spoil anything. It only has one season, so we might be in the minority of folks watching. They use the expression, “social distance,” which I thought was unique to 2020. Not many people in 2016 knew so much about the structure of coronaviruses, what PPE stands for, and what N95 has to do with masks. Oh yeah, I never knew that toilet paper would be such a commodity.
When I was four years old, I thought 14 was so OLD! I adored a neighboring teen who was kind enough to teach me how to wash dishes. That might not seem very special, and I prefer the dishwasher today, but she was patient and sweet to me, something I didn’t experience at home.
I always loved my ‘old’ teachers. One day, I was talking about how old my third grade teacher looked. I remarked that her skin was so browned and lined because of all the kids who had been talking to her; I assumed their ‘hot air’ burned her face. (My face burned when my mother repeated that anecdote to her!)
As I approached my 30th birthday, I struggled through each day. Seriously depressed, I had this belief that I would die at 30. I certainly tried to make that a reality. But my dearest teaching widower was patient, loving, and praying for me, and at 38, I met Jesus and was set free from depression. My life was forever changed, as was my view of aging.
A couple of years ago, my extremely talented sister and brother-in-law surprised me with a birthday cake. And there I was, a youngster on top of it, with real icing on my face!
Today I am 70 years old! I still think I’m relatively young, perhaps just past middle age?
After such a terrific time with relatives in Florida, it was hard to leave. I walked the Orlando airport to get my fitbit steps, exposing myself to folks hacking and sneezing into their hands. Yikes, folks. Use your arm!
I did see a coterie of stunning women, all in a line, heading for service as flight attendants. If my dearest teaching widower had not been working on his paper, seated in a galaxy far away, he’d have told me to put my phone down. But I couldn’t resist.
On the flight home, a passenger next to us coughed into the air unceasingly. Our front yard was filled with dozens of flags and spray paint, like someone planned to excavate every buried pipe and cable. Our house ‘smart thermostats’ had reverted to 49 degrees, which was a real shock to our systems (and I got very grumpy). I caught a nasty bug and was bedridden. When I graduated to the couch, I tripped over my computer cord and fell really hard, smashing a dish and landing on two body parts that had already survived surgery: my knee and shoulder.
BUT, the trip was fabulous and we can’t wait to return!
My dearest teaching widower (DTW) and I were really spoiled on our Florida trip. Our Sunshine relatives made this such a memorable time.
The Sun Rail was a delight! A three-story light rail with great views and touristy places to visit. It’s too bad that our local (North Carolina) light rail plan was such a dud. The GoTriangle organization spent $190 million and still needed $237 million plus a change of heart from Duke University/Carolina Railroad. The project was abandoned last May. Ah, well.
My dearest teaching widower (DTW) and I just took a trip to Florida, where the sun is brighter and the traffic lights self-propagate. Of course, I ignored the laughter and took photos. Everything in Florida is worth photographing.
We visited relatives whom we have designated as our ‘go-to’ family during the zombie apocalypse. We would be safe here, unless I accidentally shot my DTW. I did accidentally shoot the chain holding the target in place. Quite a fancy bit of accuracy!
I love Pesnsitivity’s blog and she was hosting Fibbing Friday last week. I’ve missed every Friday since I first heard about this silly blogging challenge, but maybe this week!
There is a fib, though, and it has to do with Santa Claus. My dearest teaching widower (DTW) was talking to me about the impact of that fib lie on many children. As a curious child psychologist, he has often asked folks how they felt when they learned the truth that Santa wasn’t real. Many adults can tell you the exact time and how deceived they felt.
I remember feeling a great sense of betrayal as I read about that sham in the newspaper. (I was four years old and it was part of my father’s “I-hate- that-you-can-read-but-prove-to-me-that-you-can-read” endeavors.) I tried to protect my younger sister from finding out, so I played along for years. I think she already knew but I hated to see her suffer. Of course, we had so many other dreadful things happening at home that Santa Claus was a mere blip on the radar of betrayal.
As parents, my DTW and I resolved never to tell our kids that Santa lie. We explained that it was a belief for some families. We said it wasn’t okay to tell other kids what to believe since that was the responsibility of their parents. As a teacher, I always took the same stance, especially not allowing kids to torment others about this societal fibbing.
My DTW, who is always thinking about deep stuff, worries that if kids can’t trust their parents about Santa Claus, can they trust them about God? To me, the bigger issue is that my parents were supposed to represent God to me. So I grew up believing that my heavenly Father is deaf, cruel, powerless, and untrustworthy. Now I know the truth about him, how he chased me down with his love. And I still believe we should ditch the Santa lie.
Thanks to Kristi and her co-hosts for this week’s Ten Things of Thankful. 2019 has been a tough year, with a record number of trips to the emergency room, lots of job changes, surgery, and illnesses. A wise man once said that we should be thankful with the cards we’re dealt; there may be some Jokers in the next hand. Well, he didn’t say it quite like that, but I’m ready for a new hand of cards.
I’ll begin my ten things by saying I’m glad to have recovered from a nasty sinus infection (#1). And my dearest teaching widower (DTW) created a silver lining by looking after me (#2), keeping me outfitted in tea and chocolate (#3).
We are going to see the Star Wars movie tonight (#4) and because of all the cough syrup I’ve taken (#5), I won’t disturb the crowd.
On the home front, I was well enough today to chase a herd of deer out of our front yard (#6) but it was too nippy to add seeds to the bird feeders (#6 minus 1…oops!). I have a special Christmas party planned for a special student tomorrow! It’s gonna be fantastic (#6 again, plus #7).
Another benefit of being ill is binge-watching TV with my precious teaching widower (#8). I’d highly recommend Blue Bloods, a fine series about the (fictional) Irish-American Reagan family and their commitment to law enforcement (#9).
If you’re a sci-fi fan, you may enjoy The Expanse as much as I do (#10). My DTW has deserted me on this one. It’s a gripping series about life on Earth, Mars, and the Asteroid Belt (centuries from now). I think my DTW can’t stand that flashlight technology will never improve….
It’s great to be back in the blogging saddle. Thanks for joining me!