It's time to say goodbye to blogging. It turns out that I don't need a space to write out my thoughts. Ever since Dad died, I find myself talking about my thoughts with the loved ones in my life and there is little need to write them out. This was an awesome place for me in the time that I needed it. I simply don't need it any longer.
I will continue to write on Alexander's blog, as infrequent as that may be. The reality is Instagram (munsonm) and Facebook are my chosen form of social media and blogging is falling by the wayside.
Thank you to those who followed or checked in on my little online journal over the past few years. The blog was an outlet during a time when I was less than happy in a job that didn't fit me, when I struggled to deal with a dying parent, and felt a lot of pressure to be the support for so many people. It turns out in the past 8 months, I have learned to let others (most importantly, my husband) take care of me and let go of so many unrealistic expectations and standards. I have learned to let the love of friends and family flood over me and I'm ok with my own weakness as I grieve, discover life in my 40's, and transition to this next chapter in my life.
While one of Dad's favorite sayings was "Never Had a Better Day", I don't know that I can agree with the sentiment any longer. Each day brings its own challenges. Each day brings its own joy and laughter. Each day brings a degree of sorrow. I'm learning to take each experience as it comes. I'm learning to walk through it, process it, and determine how to weave it into my own world.
I'm learning who Michelle is and it turns out, I kinda like her.
Life is too short for me to continue to write and leave my thoughts in cyber space. I want to build relationships and connect with the loved ones in my life. And that means telling people what I think face to face, not hide behind the written word in cyber space. I want to look them in the eyes and hold a conversation so he/she feel as though they are the most important person to me. Just like Dad used to do. That is my commitment.
It is time for me to disconnect in order to reconnect.
weekend wind-down
21 Apr 2013 9:10 AM (12 years ago)
Going into the weekend, I always think I'm going to take advantage of the down time. Not only will I finish the laundry and clean up the house, I'll set up meals for the week, do a little shopping and, weather permitting, work in the yard.
Never happens.
Three or four nights a week I arrive home between 4:30 and 5:00. That's a 10 or 11 hour day (that easy month of April changed in a hurry when I hired two brand new coaches).
Alexander was out on a sleepover weekend so you would think Eric and I would take advantage of the time alone. Go out and enjoy being grown ups.
Instead, we decided to stay in and enjoy being grown ups in a quiet house.
The weekend began with a date night at Red Robin with Eric.
Hooray for finding another gluten-free restaurant!
We watched a few movies.
Pitch Perfect.
Glee on the big screen. I loved it.
Trouble with the Curve
A baseball movie with a father and daughter.
Yes, please.
The Best Exotic Marigold Hotel
Fabulous. Simply Fabulous.
Finished some laundry.
Took a nap (or two).
I probably should have done some shopping. Should have done more cleaning.
I don't really care.
At least I cleaned this hot mess up
This often happens to my closet between winter and spring seasons.
And always leads to ridiculous levels of springtime shopping.
From the comfort of my couch.
Last week, the football coach at school loaned me a book to read.
Backtrack a few months ago to when this same football coach, Steve, approached me about an idea to bring a guest speaker to our community. He wanted Jeff Erhrmann to speak to students at Liberty. Being a non-football person, I had no idea who he was talking about so he sent me a link to share with my ASB students.
Click here to see the clip.
By this time, Dad had been gone about four months and by the end of the clip, I was crying. My sweet students were stunned into silence (even though they were used to my tears in those first months). Why is this guy making their teacher cry? They didn't see the connections that were so clear to me. The lines that connected Steve to my dad, whom he loved like a son. The lines that connected my dad to high school athletics The lines that connected my dad to his father and to my brother. I felt Dad had orchestrated Steve to bring this speaker in but the approval wasn't my decision. It was the kids. I wiped my tears, lead a discussion on whether or not bringing out this speaker met our vision and mission in ASB and, within minutes, they had agreed to support the visit. Joe is coming out to us in August.
So, back to Steve leaving the book for me to read. I inhaled it. I loved it. And I started reflecting on the father-son relationships that were closest to me.
From a young age, I instinctively knew the relationship my father had with my brother was unique.
Not because they were boys.
Not because my brother was the baby of the family
Not because the two of them looked exactly the same.
The relationship was different because of how my father would talk with my brother. Words like "respect", "integrity", "honesty" was uttered between them in virtually every conversation. My dad intentionally created my brother's character, using love and respect.
I'm not saying he didn't do these things for my sister and I. He did. But for my brother, he used the lessons to create a man and that is so very different.
Until I read this book, I didn't realize how intentionally Dad parented. I have worked with hundreds of students and sadly, so many of the boys are trying to prove something to their fathers to gain approval, affection, or attention. For some, they eventually find peace. For others, the struggle lasts well into marriages and parenthood.
My brother never had to prove anything to my dad. He was loved for simply being Patrick and being the best Patrick he could be, was all Dad ever wanted.
Dad told my brother he loved him every single day. My brother was lucky enough to know Dad and has absolutely no regrets about their relationship. I believe that bond and relationship is why Dad wanted Patrick at his side when he passed away.
It is amazing.
It is beautiful.
There is absolutely no doubt in my mind that my brother will do the same with his son.
And he will do it so very well.
So, that's the first relationship.
My, this is becoming a lengthy post....
The second father-son relationship is this one.
Oh, how I love those faces.
One of the best decisions we ever made was for Eric to stay home with Alexander.
I see that so clearly now.
My dad used to tell me Eric was meant to be a father, being a father would be his greatest accomplishment, and believed wholeheartedly in Eric staying home with Alexander.
Sure, there are some rough days and the house isn't as clean as I want it.
Sure, I get insanely jealous of Eric spending his days at home.
Sure, I wish I had the patience to be a stay-at-home mom.
But let's be real. Staying at home ain't me.
Eric is building our son's character in the same way my father did with Patrick.
And I didn't realize it until I read the book.
Eric is building our son into a man.
It is a mighty, mighty task for a father.
And my husband is rocking it.
He intentionally parents Alexander so Alexander is learning that he can be secure in being himself.
He tells him he loves him. Every day.
He tells him he is proud of him. Every day.
Eric does not shame him, embarass him, make fun of him or treat him any less than who he is.
He tells him he can be anything he wants and encourages his endless questioning.
Eric doesn't make Alexander prove anything to him on the athletic court, in the classroom or in our home.
He just allows him to be.
And loves him. No matter what.
It is amazing.
It is beautiful.
It fills my heart with joy.
I heard the news around 2:30 this afternoon about the explosion at the Boston Marathon. I was running an errand after school and the local sports radio station starting talking about it. Needless to say, I was shocked. And worried for those I know who are there today.
You see, working in a school allows for a sense of isolation. I am busy with students all day, I don't have the news or TV on so I don't always know what is happening in the real world unless someone mentions it and I pull up the Internet. And, even then, I end up distracted by students and don't always see the full story until the evening.
There is a blessing to this isolation. There is also a curse. Not only do you have to deal with your emotions from an event, but you also have to be there to console and try to help high school students come to grips with their emotions from the event.
When Columbine happened, I was on spring break and found myself glued to the TV. For hours. Visions from that day are seared into my mind. That was a terrible day. Ever since, I vowed to wait a few hours before looking at the images and being very choosy about what I watch.
On 9/11, I was working in a new school that didn't have cable or Internet hooked up. I didn't see any images until I arrived home late that evening. Truthfully, I still haven't watched the planes hit the towers.
I don't watch terrible car crashes. I have yet to see any footage from the Sandy Hook school shootings or any other major newsworthy events in the past few years. I just can't do it.
I can't say the same of today's explosion at the race. To be clear, I didn't watch because of the gore. What may have begun as a desire to learn more about the event, became an observation of human reaction. I watched the footage because I was inspired by the policemen and women, the armed forces, the runners and individuals who dove into the middle of the explosion site to help. They didn't shy away from what must be done. They dove in and took care of business.
They took care of each other.
I love that.
Despite the fear and craziness that is happening in Boston, I want to believe that good will come out of this event. Seems to me that going after runners might have been a bad move because if there is any group that has proven resilience, it is a group of runners. I mean, they get up and pound the pavement, mile after mile, FOR ABSOLUTELY NO REASON. Set off an explosion at one of their events and I suspect runners are not a group that is going to let you win.
Otherwise, if there is no good that comes from today's events, I may have to create some sort of force field around my house to keep us isolated forever. Because the hardest thing to think about is this evil coming close to my family and hurting one of my boys.
And I don't have enough alcohol in this house for that pain....or, for that matter, the isolation of living in a force field 24/7.
Please send your thoughts and prayers to Boston right now.
Vegas, baby
14 Apr 2013 2:40 PM (12 years ago)
Ah, Spring Break.
Every teacher and student loves you.
Every parent dreads you.
Personally, I just love to celebrate you.
For years, Spring Break meant a trip with my mom to Las Vegas for a few days of R&R. Once Alexander was born, it was too difficult to leave the boys and then Dad got really sick and before you know it, it had been seven years since our last trip. Well, there was the year we went to Vegas when I turned 40 but that trip was in October, not April.
This year, Mom and I booked a trip from Tuesday to Friday. Mid-week in Vegas is our favorite time to go. We settled into our first class seats and we were off! Once we arrived, we HAD to eat because we discovered that food in first class really isn't any better than when you fly coach. On the other hand, drinks are way better because they come in pretty glasses and are free!
Dinner at The Pub in Monte Carlo
It was Happy Hour.
Two beers for the price of one.
I'm never one to pass up a good deal!
Our room had a view of the strip!
We've stayed in several hotels over the years and Monte Carlo is our favorite. It's a smaller casino and frankly, my mom wins money in the place. Since I go for the sunshine, all that matters to me is the pool area. I even got new flippy flops for this adventure!
When it comes to sunshine, Vegas and the Monte Carlo doesn't disappoint.
This year, Mom treated us to the European day bed. It was luxurious and made us feel like fancy ladies.
Especially when breakfast arrived each morning by 10AM.
Oh, how this girl loves the sunshine!
On Wednesday night, we headed over to Paris to Mon Ami Gabi.
We ate there for my 40th birthday and it was a meal that had to be repeated.
So. Freaking. Good.
Other nights were spent eating and drinking too much, exploring Fremont, and gambling.
A lot.
I'm not one for playing slots but even I managed to win a bit.
Not a bad win for putting in 20 bucks!
Winning on the Michael Jackson game was hilarious because I only put in 10 bucks to entertain myself with his music and on the last pull....
I hit the bonus round!
Vegas has changed a lot over the years. Most everything is computerized with crazy graphics, food and drinks are a bit more expensive, we've been spoiled in our use of cabanas and daybeds, and there are a lot more families around than I remembered.
But one thing will never change.
Our wacky love of the place.
Blue Men and all!
Thanks for the great trip, Mom!
I'm the first to admit that blog updates in March are few and far between. Shoot, let's be serious. March shows up with a vengeance and kicks my ass.
Here's a glimpse of our family calendar in March
vs April.
And these pictures don't include events that occurred at school like ASB elections, hiring drill team and cheer coaches within a week of one another, district meetings, and other unexpected miscellaneous adventures. By the time the weekend rolls around, it's all I can do to muster up the energy to play with my boys, finish a few loads of laundry, and usually end up napping a few times. Needless to say, the blogs are neglected.
It's no wonder that the rest of the school year just flies by.
The first week in April is always our spring spirit week.
The kids decided on "SPLIEK" for a theme.
SPring fLIng weEK - A noun meaing a random spirit week filled with randomness and fun.
I have always, since my own days in high school, loved dressing up for spirit days.
So, for fun, I took pictures of myself in the spirit wear I wore to work.
Excuse the camera quality. I have a shitty phone camera.
Moody Monday - PJ day
This also happened to be the day I met a couple of co-workers at Starbucks for a meeting before attending a district meeting with the Superintendent in attendance.
Wearing a pink fuzzy robe.
Oh, yes I did.
Thing 1, ThingTuesday - Twin Day
Navy skinny jeans and grey cardigan from Target
Which my friend Donna, also happens to own.
Perfect.
Zoo Day - Bring out your inner animal
I don't wear patterns. Ever.
But I bought this shirt for a White Trash 40th birthday party last year.
I paired with with a long cardigan and leggings since I had to hold interviews and didn't want to veer too far off the professional path.
Throwback Thursday
Dug out the ol' letterman jacket from back in the day, missing patches/bars/letters and all.
That coat is older than my students.
And several of my co-workers.
Fashion Disaster Friday
This type of day goes against everything in my moral fashion fiber.
So, I chose the ugliest shirt I could find and paired leggings with Uggs.
I feel the leggings/Ugg look is the worst fashion trend of this generation.
I spent the day making fun of the kids. And they didn't even know it.
I love my job.
WACA Conference
24 Mar 2013 1:38 PM (12 years ago)
Last week, I spent three glorious days in Yakima at a conference. Granted, Yakima was not so glorious. Driving over the pass was gross with snow, it was freezing in Yakima, and there wasn't a whole lot to do in the town, other than the attendance the conference.
The conference was the glorious piece. Three days to focus my energy and thoughts on my job and how to be a better leadership teacher. Three days to sit with co-workers and share ideas and philosophical theories. Three days to sit in seminars, listen to keynote speakers, and maybe I caught up on my emails, and took an afternoon to myself and napped learned something new.
There was even a little shout out to my school at the American Heart Association at a booth!
Not only did I have the opportunity to focus on my job, I had the opportunity to spend time with family on Thursday night.
Dinner with this beautiful bride and her mom.
Alice and Karen drove over from Ellensburg to treat me to an amazing dinner.
It was a beautiful evening with a delicious meal and hours of conversation, sharing memory after memory of my dad. It helped to remind me that talking about my dad doesn't necessarily mean I haven't moved forward and need to talk about him. Instead, I was reminded that talking about Dad gives others permission to do so, and sometimes, they need permission to share their grief with us.
With a lightened heart, I joined the rest of the crew for the social and danced the night away with this lovely lady - Tammy.
She's my friend, a leadership teacher, and our summer leadership camp director.
And I adore her.
One week remains in March. It has been a long haul but the time has flown by and it looks like we survived another one.
The first week of April brings a spirit week (note to self: move the spirit week to late April!), the homecoming of my in-laws, and counting down the days to a vacation.
Vegas.
Oh, how I need thee!
book club
19 Mar 2013 3:45 PM (12 years ago)
For a girl who wanted to stop writing about books on her blog, I sure find myself continuing to write about books.
It looks like my book club has chosen a book. And by "we", I mean two of the many invited voiced their opinion and it aligned with mine, so a book has been "chosen".
Have you read it?
I kinda can't wait to start reading a book that is bound to end with an awesome conversation.
I reserved it at our local library about a week ago. As with every popular book that comes out, there are about a gazillion people lined up in front of me. I figured that wouldn't be a big deal until I realized I had a second reason for reading it.
As I slowly sipped coffee this morning, I finally caught up on all the blogs I have neglected.
Life of Bon is hosting a virtual book club on March 28 and they are reading the same book. I love the idea of a virtual book club and I want to play along. I guess I better buy it, rather than wait for the library, if I want to read it before the end of 2013.
right now
17 Mar 2013 1:18 PM (12 years ago)
right now: The boys are gaming together. Alexander is babbling. Eric is playing. They are together.
right now: I can glimpse blue sky and sunshine outside our windows. Hello spring!
right now: I am still curled up on the couch, battling this cold.
right now: I am reading The Art of Fielding. It's pretty good.
right now: I can't help but look forward to Spring Break. Two weeks. Vegas. Good times.
saturday
16 Mar 2013 3:04 PM (12 years ago)
I've spent most of today with this view.
Game after game after game.
I consider it research for March Madness.
In reality, I can't shake this cold and feel awful. My couch doesn't feel so awful so I've settled in for a weekend of little productivity.
While Eric slumbered on this morning, I mustered up energy and dragged Alexander on a few errands: post office, cleaners and grocery store. My son loves errands. He wasn't a fan of the grocery store stop but I had him help me pick out produce, which included cherry tomatoes as his treat. He sure was a fan of the dozen strawberries he consumed as soon as we got home.
On Thursday, I ended up in the doctor office with what I thought was an earache or possible strep throat. Instead, I walked out with the words "it's a virus" ringing in my ears (muffled, of course) and irritated that I not only wasted money time by going in to the doctor, but I had to get on a freaking scale.
Weight Watchers, here I come. Hence the trip to the grocery story with Alexander. The house is now full of fresh fruits and veggies, yogurt for breakfast and no booze.
Vegas is in three weeks. That means swimsuit. That means motivation to get into a swimsuit. That means full justification for the money spent on fresh fruit and veggies this morning.
I love when I can make a full circle between three random thoughts.
While you continue to ponder my brilliance, I need to get back to the basketball games.
I really do watch these games as research for a March Madness bracket.
March Madness.
Oh, how I love thee.
PS. Does anyone have a tip for blocking irritating spam comments?
poster making
15 Mar 2013 10:42 AM (12 years ago)
My poster.
As promised.
To be fair, this was my FIFTH attempt at a poster.
I'm not kidding.
I'm really lucky my kids are so kind and didn't laugh too hard at my efforts.
And when the PTSA ladies don't hang this one up because it is too terrible, I won't bother to reveal it was mine.
I'll blame it on a freshman!
In order to keep up with the latest commitment to update my blog at least once a week, here I am.
It's Wednesday. I don't have a lot of coherent thoughts going on. I think the fever I kicked in a sweaty mess at 2AM on Tuesday is back. And my throat hurts so bad, I'm convinced I swallowed a handfull of razorblades. It's really ridiculous.
I'm waiting for a couple of pictures to upload to share.
One is on my non-smart phone so I am waiting for it to upload it to email from the phone. From there, I have to download it to the laptop and then pull it to the blog. It's a ridiculous process.
The backstory to the photo is I joined the elementary school PTSA this fall. Since Eric is volunteering at the school and both my parents were fancy-pants PTSA volunteers, I felt the pressure to join in. So, after a few glasses of wine, I replied to an email and volunteered to work on the auction. I figured it would be an easy way to ease my way into PTSA land.
Holy Mother of All Commitments.
I'm certain, with time, it won't feel so awkward to hang out with these ladies. Thank goodness, I can use the experience as teachable moments with my ASB'rs as examples of having to break out of your comfort zone and meet new people.
Meeting new people is really good for you....as long as it is happening to someone other than me.
Anyhow, today was a half day at school so a few of my kids opted to help me make a couple of advertising posters. I decided to make one, too.
insert photo
Turns out, in the 24 years since I had to make posters for ASB, there has been limited improvement.
The other picture is this one.
Even though I'm the parent who is the "talker", Eric is definitely the parent who walks the walk.
When he heard that Alexander was struggling with grieving, Eric stopped by the local library yesterday and picked this up for Alexander and I.
It was the sweetest gesture. Ever.
Eric is kind of on a roll with sweet gestures.
The cold I have now was given to me by him. He had this miserable cold over the past few weeks.
No, I'm not being sarcastic and alluding that the kind gesture was him giving me a cold.
It turns out I'm not only a terrible patient, but I'm also a terrible caretaker.
I simply don't like taking care of sick people.
Even though I went out and got him juice while he was sick, he one-upped me and bought me chicken noodle soup.
I don't even like chicken noodle soup.
Knowing this, he bought me not just any chicken noodle soup.
But, what I have to say, is THE BEST I have ever tasted.
Seriously.
BEST ever.
(the Lobster Bisque rocks, too)
Eric - 2; Michelle - a big fat 0
Ok, I can't wait any longer for that stupid photo to upload to email.
For now, it's time for me to crawl my feverish, whiney self back into bed.
Poor me.
I really am a terrible patient.
the future
10 Mar 2013 7:49 PM (12 years ago)
I hear a little voice call from Alexander's room about 15 minutes after bedtime,
"Mommy, I need a hug."
"Ok, sweetie. I can give you a hug."
I hear the pitter-patter of pajamed feet across the wood floor and then he climbs into my arms.
"What's going on, bug?"
"I got scared."
"Scared of what?"
"The future."
Oh.
That.
I turn off the TV, carry my sweet six year old to his room, and crawl into bed with him. With only the nightlight glowing, he begins to talk.
"I was thinking about Papa and then I started thinking about the future. I started thinking what if I died. What if you died. And then I got really sad. I can't get it out of my head."
Oh.
This is one of those parenting moments that has no rules. I don't know what to say. I don't know how to comfort him. How do I help a six year old process his thoughts when I can barely process my own? So, I went into teacher mode. I asked questions. I listened.
And I hope to God I'm saying the right things.
Ultimately, we have no control over the future.
The past is the past and it cannot be changed, no matter how different we want the outcome to be.
Eventutally, the conversation with my son turned to stories, and the room filled with his laughter. The moment of fear had passed.
I kissed his forehead, hugged him one more time, walked out of his room and closed the door behind me.
Life is best lived when you live in the moment.
Memories flood me from my childhood. I can envision myself laying on my bed, in my basement room, with a book in my hands, my legs/feet up against the red-carpet wall. Weirdest positioning but it worked. Weirdest red-carpeted wall, too.
Rainy days were my favorite because I was free to spend hours reading and escaping.
Little Women
A Wrinkle in Time
Nancy Drew
Sweet Valley High
Books were my escape route in elementary and middle school. In high school, my unanticipated social life replaced reading. But every so often, when I needed to escape from the hustle and bustle of socializing, I'd hide away and read. And balance in my life would be restored.
When Dad died, I did the same thing. I needed to escape from the pain so I feel into my childhood comfort of reading. Escaped into books. Only I chose books that didn't provoke any thoughts. Just mindless, paperback novels that could be thrown away (or given away). I chose books that could be read before bedtime that would lull me to sleep. If I could fall asleep from reading, then I wouldn't cry myself to sleep. Seems silly to say that six months later, but at the time, that was my reality.
I am thankful for the escape and the time reading bought me as I healed. And the balance that is slowly being restored in my life.
Fast forward a few months, and I'm reading books of thought. I work with an English-teacher-turned-Asst. Principal, and she is always sharing education books with me. I have Crucial Conversations and How Children Succeed on my night stand. Both have been good for me and my mind is brushing off the cognitive cobwebs.
Today, I set up an April book club at my house. I've been meeting with the same group for almost two years. However, our last meeting was spring of 2012 (I think). I simply haven't had the energy. They understand. They are the best.
I don't know what we'll read, but it will be something that will eventually lead to a rich conversation, full of laughter and joy with friends I dearly love.
Balance. Healing.
That is what reading brings to me.
Life is moving forward. One book at a time.
The Help
6 Mar 2013 5:44 PM (12 years ago)
Rarely do I enjoy a movie that was written about a book.
Rarely.
Everyone has told me I wouldn't be disappointed if I watched The Help so I decided our very empty Netflix queue needed a movie.
I loved the book, the rich conversation it generated in my book club, and how the characters came to life.
What if the movie doesn't reach the visions I have in my head? What if it falls short of my expectations? What if I am disappointed?
Tonight, Eric and I popped it in the dvd and I figured it would be background noise while I graded papers.
Turns out, Eric is really enjoying it. And I'm not getting any grading done!
Turns out changing a photo can be a major tear trigger.
I am as surprised as you are.
This picture is currently my cover photo.
It's the last picture we took as a family.
Someday I will frame it but for now, I can't
Anyhow, I thought I'd simply change. it up a bit.
And put this photo in its place.
I'm about 2 in this picture and, what looks like a sweet capture of a kiss, is actually Michelle taking a popsicle piece out of my dad's mouth.
To get to this picture, I had to scroll through a folder, filled with digital pictures of Dad. I had been given the folder when I did his memorial slideshow and haven't looked through it since October.
Until today.
Wow.
Serious tears trigger.
Sad andh happy ones.
My dad lived each day to the fullest. That thought was evident as I looked through picture after picture with that big grin on his face. He loved life. He loved family. And he loved us.
I am so lucky he was my dad.
March is, BY FAR, the longest and busiest month of the school year. It is four (or sometimes five) loooooong weeks. The only redeeming quality of this month is that spring break and a trip to Vegas awaits me at the end. Oh, Vegas. How I love thee!
Thoughts of being poolside will have to do for now.
State testing. District meetings. Guest speakers. A conference. Planning a spring spirit week. A field trip or two.
Every Tuesday night, I have an ASB event. Why Tuesday? Because we have late arrival Wednesdays. Placing evening events on Tuesday brings in larger crowds of students who can sleep in the next day.
Do you know you doesn't get to sleep in? Yep. Yours truly.
Every weekend seems to have a birthday party, family gathering or something else to take our time. Oh, and in all my ridiculous wisdom, I signed up to help with Alexander's school auction in April.
Oh, and did I mention the herd is going to start running again?
SO MUCH TO DO!!!
But you know what else happens in the month of March?
A little celebration of love with this guy!
Sixteen years of wedded bliss.
I guess not all of March is filled with agony.
Just most of it.
As I wrote in an earlier post, my beloved grandmother is pretty sick. Only Grandma and God know when she will leave us.
In our family, there are 13 grandchildren; four of them are girls. We are her favorites. Oh, the boys might try to say they are the most favorite but we all know the truth. Grandma loves us the best. She always calls us her "beautiful girls". The beauty clearly started with her.
I could share hundreds of stories about my grandmother. The time will come for those stories to be shared. And when the time comes, we will toast martini after martini in her honor and tell countless stories. Or maybe it will be McNaughtons and Coke. Either way, she'll watch over us and laugh along with us.
But that time isn't now.
Instead, I want to tell a story about the day my dad died.
My brother texted early on October 1 and said he didn't think Dad wasn't going to make it through the day. Patrick had flown out from Florida the night before and took the night shift so Mom could get a little rest. He had finished calling the funeral home to make all the arrangements because I couldn't bear that task and told me Dad was ready to go. I sped up my getting ready process and jumped in the truck to go to the hospital. I envisioned the five of us together when Dad left us and it would be beautiful.
Dad had a different vision in mind.
As I was driving, I kept hearing Dad's voice "don't turn off to go to the hospital. Go to your grandmothers house and be with her. I need you to be with her.". I thought I was crazy and ignored him. Why would I go to my grandmother's house when I should be with my dying dad, right? So, he said the words AGAIN, with that stern Dad voice that you didn't ignore. "Michelle Marie, go to your grandmother's house. I don't want you at the hospital." This time, there were images in my head, of kneeling at Grandma's feet, while she told me stories of my dad and played with my hair.
The feeling and urge to be with Grandma was overwhelming. I felt so torn about what to do. I wanted to be with my dad but I couldn't ignore that he clearly had a different idea for me.
Naturally, I did exactly what I wanted and ignored my father. I went to the hospital. Upon entering his room, I burst into tears and told my mom and brother that I wasn't supposed to be there and that Dad wanted me to be with Grandma. To which my brother responded, "then why are you here? If Dad says leave, you better listen to him. He is still in charge." My mom swears she could feel Dad pushing me out of the room. I sobbed, kissed my father goodbye and Mom walked me out. I called my cousin Jodie and my aunt and told him Dad wanted me at Grandma's. I'm pretty sure I freaked them out. But no one argued with me.
I pulled up to Grandma's house, pretty darn hysterical. I told her through my tears that Dad wanted me to be with her, and she was supposed to tell me stories. It didn't even occur to her to question my request. She simply responded in her sweet, kind voice, "well, we better listen to Danny." She sat in her chair. I curled up at her feet. And she started from the beginning. Story after story poured out of her. I sobbed but she never once stopped telling stories in the clearest, strongest voice I had ever heard from her. It was beautiful.
I am not sure how much time passed before my aunt walked in and told me that Dad was gone. I looked at Grandma and we told her. She said, "he's gone? I thought he'd stop by and say hello on his way." I said nothing. She was really quiet and then she said, "Danny gave me a better gift than saying goodbye. He sent me Chelle." Naturally, I lost it again. The rest of the day passed in a blur with family, tears, and so much love. My dad put me in the arms of my grandma on that day for both of us. And I will forever be grateful for it.
My grandmother is ready to be with her loved ones in heaven. She is ready to be with my dad. And Dad will greet her with his big smile, arms wide open, and they will dance and laugh. I want that for her. I kinda also want it for me, too, but there is still much to be done here before it's my time.
On the day she dies, I will print and frame this photo to put in my office. I know I have host of angels looking over me from above.
But these two will always be my favorites.
Our school is currently undergoing a 75MILLION dollar renovation. A complete overhaul that has landed me in a smelly, non-ventilated portable for a full school year while they construct my new office and classroom. They tell me it will be worth it but each time they push back the move in date, they lessen my faith in their work. They did make strides in appeasing me when they promised my ASB room would have a rubberized floor (for easy mop ups of spilled paint), floor to ceiling cabinetry for storage, tables on wheels, AND a utility sink (for easy mops ups of spilled paint).
Who doesn't want a sink in their classroom, yo?
Anyhow, as a part of this remodel gig, the new performance arts center is operational. Trainings for the new performance arts center have to occur to those who will use the space. The new theater sits 600 people, has state of the art technology, all sorts of curtains, lights, and orchestra "clouds" in the sky and is super fancy pants coolness. Since ASB uses the space for our events, I spent 2 hours of the work day, learning all there is to know about drapes and curtain rigging's. Naturally, I kept saying "riggins", in loving reference to my favorite character from Friday Night Lights. Unfortunately, no one got it but I totally entertained myself.
Who doesn't love Riggins?
For the record, my son loves him because he is also the lead character in Battleship, a movie Alexander currently loves more than Pop tarts.
As part of this training, we were asked to climb thousands of feet to the catwalks to see how the fancy schmancy pulley system works for the curtains and such. We have a beautiful theater and I can't wait to see our program expand because of the state of the art work. Drama geeks would totally have loved this shizz and I couldn't help thinking of my favorite drama geek, my brother, as I learned about each new bell and whistle.
And then they told me we had to go up into the catwalks.
I remember my heart rate starting to race as we were climbing, and finding it hard to catch my breath. One might have thought the response came from having to climb FIVE flights of ridiculously steep stairs to get to the catwalks. Nope. I was struggling because, with each flight, I could see us rising into the heavens and it was freaking my shizz out. The stairs were the see through kind so I could see the floor dropping from below me. When we finally reached the catwalks, we had to stand on grated metal,
installed by the lowest bidder, supported by the thinnest metal ever made. If I looked down, I could see the stage WAY below me. On each side, the thinnest of rails was supposed to keep me from tipping over and falling to my death.
This, my friends, is the part of the adventure where things get a little fuzzy in the ol' memory bank. See, I'm the person who once stood on a ladder, outside her home, on the fourth rung, for three hours because she was scared and needed her husband to talk her off the ladder. This the person who really wants to do the zip line in Fremont in Vegas but knows she'll never have the guts to climb the ladder to get to the zip line. The person who refuses to walk across grated openings on the ground because she
knows they are going to fall out from underneath her.
What the hell was I thinking when I agreed to walk the catwalk??? I have no idea.
According to my co-worker, the minute I stepped out onto the grating, color instantly drained from my face, I started swaying and, if she hadn't casually walked over and propped me up and edged me back to the door, I was definitely going down. I don't remember any of it but I have enjoyed calling it my "near death experience", which is a total exaggeration but the best way to defuse my fear.
Not even Riggins could save me today. Not that I wouldn't mind him trying......
If I were to be super mega-cognitive about life, I'd tell you that I grieve my dad on a daily basis and am discovering the many layers to the grief. I'd tell you that I'm learning more about myself as a wife and a mother. I've let go of the control I once felt the need to exert over our family and we are all better for it.
I'm learning more about myself as a teacher. I'm blessed to work with the highest achieving kids in ASB and letting go of control of the program has been remarkable. Putting the program in their capable hands has brought growth for all of us. Just this month, these awesome leaders took the lead on a project and raised more than $6500.00 for the American Heart Association.
They blow my mind.
I'm learning more about myself as a daughter. My mom had knee replacement surgery and I spent three days in a hospital with her and another addtional seven days caring for her. The dynamics of our relationship and the relationships with my siblings is changing.
But let's not get all meta-cognitive, shall we?
Random updates on my life:
1. My sweet grandmother, my sweet last living grandparent, is in poor health. I believe in my heart of hearts, with the exception of my aunt, everyone who holds my grandmother's heart is in heaven. She is ready to be with them. And that is ok. I love her. So much.
This is my absolute most favorite picture of my grandma.
2. Mid winter break is next week. The three of us are heading to Arizona and then over to Disneyland to play with my in-laws for a week. As a bonus, Eric and I are staying in a hotel in Arizona while Alexander stays with his grandparents at the RV park. To say I'm super excited to have a few days alone with my hubby is an understatement.
3. When we return from vacation, work is going to amp up with no break in sight. Fundraising events, student elections, registration for next year....it's all going to pass in a blur. I'm going to have to really focus on keeping as much balance with home and work as possible.
4. Eric and I stopped drinking after the new year. I'm about 99% sure we'll pick it back up while on vacay.
5. I got a haircut. Bang Bang. I love them.
I don't know when I'll post again but I do miss it so I hope it is sooner rather than later.
The last book review I did was a few months ago.
Clearly, I don't have the discipline to continue with the activity. If I'm going to be serious about being disciplined, it needs to be in all areas. So, I'm saying goodbye to the book reviews.
I won't stop reading (can you say Harry Potter series?). I'm just gonna stop writing about it.
This weekend is pretty wide open, with only a few things on the agenda...
Going to embark on a little fitness adventure with this gal, whose bound and determined to be healthy this year too.
Going to spend a little time prepping for Alexander's 6th birthday.
The theme: LEGO party (done dirt cheap).
Eric and I are going to tackle a few stores and see what sales we can find. I've pinterested a few ideas so we're going to see what magical surprises we can create.
Going to take my little man on a Mommy/Son date to the high school to watch the big boys play basketball.
I have high hopes watching a game will help improve his skills.
Since he is the shortest on his team, he's gonna need all the help he can get!
Tomorrow, we're all about cheering on our Seattle Seahawks!
GO HAWKS!!
Have a great weekend!
back to work....
4 Jan 2013 7:19 PM (12 years ago)
...and I don't want anyone to see me. Which actually means I'm moving forward with my grief. Hold tight; I'll try to explain what I mean.
I don't mind being back to work after a two week break. I enjoy talking with my students as they tell me their stories from the holiday break. Yesterday, I actually laughed out loud for several minutes. Loudly. And it felt wonderful.
What I realized today is I am doing o,k but I don't like people asking how I'm doing. That may sound strange but if you know me, you know that it actually means I'm healing. I have never been one to share my personal life with my work life. I don't like the attention on me and I certainly don't want to discuss my feelings.
I rarely blur the lines between home and work. Rarely.
However, I didn't have much of a choice about the lines blurring when Dad died because
1. my mom used to work at the high school where I currently work so everyone asks how she is doing
2. my dad announced football games where I currently work so the community asks how we are doing
3. I went to high school where I currently work so everyone asks how I am doing and
4. I have really good friends where I currently work who ask how I'm doing.
I really love long sentences.
I know I'm coming out of the grief fog because I'm noticing, when people ask, I hate it. This was very "before Dad died" behavior for me. What looks like concern to others feels like pity to me. I'm not saying I don't appreciate the support. I'm just over needing it.
It's weird. I know. Just go with it.
I am.
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