Holly volunteered for Discovery Lab last week. It is sort of like science lab, and all grades cycle through Discovery Lab each month. The kids' school is an open style campus, so when it is cold, they have to wear their coats every time they leave the classroom. Anyway, Holly and the DL teacher were waiting for Reed's class to show up for lab and saw that the kids were approaching the class on a very cold day, and nobody was wearing a coat. When the DL teacher made a comment to Reed's teacher about this, she said that lice is going around the school and said something about coats helping to spread lice and that them not wearing coats was her way to combat the problem (or something like that...Holly did not really catch her reasoning, but that is beside the point).
So about three days later as the kids were getting ready for school and Evyn and I were deciding if it was a barrette or ponytail kind of day, I mentioned that a ponytail was a better option since lice was going around school. She asked what lice was and Reed, using his deep, serious voice, said that he knew and would be happy to fill Evyn in. Reed and I started telling her that it was tiny bugs that live in your hair, it is really contagious, etc. Reed then says, "I know another thing lice can do to you. It makes you not want to wear your coat."
Friday, February 18, 2011
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
Death and Regret
I try really hard to live life with no regrets. I want to make choices that are smart. I am in charge of my life, my happiness. The choices I make may not always make everyone around me happy. I might find that down the road I may not have made the very best choice, but I always want to be secure in the fact that it was the right choice for me at the time the decision was being made. I believe that I have been mostly successful in this regard. The one event that always brings up regret and even guilt for me is death.
Death also happens to be something that I always have a hard time coming to terms with. It is something that I have not had to deal with that often through my lifetime (the exception being death of our pets over the recent years), having only been to about five funerals. I regret not attending my good friend Mike's funeral ten years ago. Mike was my age and his life was cut short due to a tragic alcohol-related accident. I still wish I had made arrangements to retake my college exams another time and just spent the astronomical fee for a last minute plane ticket to Dallas to be with my friends and say goodbye to the friend that we love and miss to this day. I regret not asking my Hama the story of her life during one of the many times we talked. Learning the more intimate details of my Hama's life at her funeral bothered me. If only she had told me the stories of her independence and courage during a time when women were not supposed to be brave and crazy. I could have given her a high five, and she could have seen my smile. I could have understood where some of my free-spiritedness comes from. I guess, in a way, she did tell me her story. She, herself, wrote the words spoken at her funeral. She planned it, she had the church secretary come visit her and take notes until it was just right. But still....
This week an exceptional lady passed away peacefully in her sleep. She was 88 and was still living independently. We called her Granny East. She was not "our" granny, but she lived next door to my Granny forever. Her daughters and my dad and my aunt sort of grew up together, or at least next door. She and my Granny both became widows, attended the same church and looked out of one another. When my Granny died (the first funeral I ever attended - sobbing mess does not come close to describing my experience) and her house was cleared out, Holly and I bought it, and Ashley, Holly and I set up our little family with all four of our dogs in that tiny little house full of memories. Granny East was the best neighbor. She would come outside and give the dogs little treats. She was not overly annoyed with the chorus of beagles barking next door. She got to know and appreciate their barks - she always knew if it was just a kid riding by on a bike or if there was really something to be concerned about. She also made treats for us and would call periodically and tell us to meet her at the fence because she had something for us. She was such a kind lady, and as I sat at her funeral today, that sense of regret that I work so hard to live without came creeping back, poking me in the ribs, asking... why didn't you at least send her Christmas cards after you moved away? You were just at the baseball field next to her house last spring. You sat and watched the house while recalling happy memories as your children practiced with their baseball teams. You even thought about paying her a surprise visit. She would have been thrilled to meet Evyn and Reed and hear about how grown up Ashley is, but you decided against the surprise because YOU personally don't care for surprise visits. This is precisely why regret is something I choose to avoid living with. Death always has a way of reminding me how living with regret can eat you alive.
One thing I do know. I might regret not keeping in touch better, not trying harder to pay my final respects to a loved one or might even regret not asking the right questions to an elderly friend or family member, but I know that I have treated them with the type of love and respect that I wish to receive. I have never looked back during a funeral and thought that the deceased did not know I loved and respected them. I hope I never do. That right there is a good reason never to hold a grudge. Forgiveness feels so much better.
Today I am thankful to Granny East not only for her kindness and fond memories (not to mention her killer banana pudding) but also for reminding me of the regret that really only troubles me when one passes away. As Holly and I ramp up her father's care, struggle with taking on more of his daily needs and medical issues, we realize that we very well could be caring for a dying man. I know without a doubt that when her father passes, regret is not what I want to feel. The sadness that comes with death is unavoidable, the regret is not. I want to do anything I can to make sure that Grandpa knows how much we love him. If these days ahead are indeed leading us to his end, I want more than ever to be patient even in the most trying situations. I want to be friendly at all times and, most of all, I want us to do whatever it takes to make him feel content and comfortable. Thank you Granny East for the opportunity to realize and think deeply about these things before it is too late.
It only takes a minute to make someone feel special or to tell them you love them or have been thinking about them. If there is anyone in your life you keep randomly thinking about or keep meaning to connect with, I challenge you to do just that. Reach out. You never know if the opportunity will pass you by. Things left unsaid can lead to regret, save yourself the "I wish I had.." and just do it.
Death also happens to be something that I always have a hard time coming to terms with. It is something that I have not had to deal with that often through my lifetime (the exception being death of our pets over the recent years), having only been to about five funerals. I regret not attending my good friend Mike's funeral ten years ago. Mike was my age and his life was cut short due to a tragic alcohol-related accident. I still wish I had made arrangements to retake my college exams another time and just spent the astronomical fee for a last minute plane ticket to Dallas to be with my friends and say goodbye to the friend that we love and miss to this day. I regret not asking my Hama the story of her life during one of the many times we talked. Learning the more intimate details of my Hama's life at her funeral bothered me. If only she had told me the stories of her independence and courage during a time when women were not supposed to be brave and crazy. I could have given her a high five, and she could have seen my smile. I could have understood where some of my free-spiritedness comes from. I guess, in a way, she did tell me her story. She, herself, wrote the words spoken at her funeral. She planned it, she had the church secretary come visit her and take notes until it was just right. But still....
This week an exceptional lady passed away peacefully in her sleep. She was 88 and was still living independently. We called her Granny East. She was not "our" granny, but she lived next door to my Granny forever. Her daughters and my dad and my aunt sort of grew up together, or at least next door. She and my Granny both became widows, attended the same church and looked out of one another. When my Granny died (the first funeral I ever attended - sobbing mess does not come close to describing my experience) and her house was cleared out, Holly and I bought it, and Ashley, Holly and I set up our little family with all four of our dogs in that tiny little house full of memories. Granny East was the best neighbor. She would come outside and give the dogs little treats. She was not overly annoyed with the chorus of beagles barking next door. She got to know and appreciate their barks - she always knew if it was just a kid riding by on a bike or if there was really something to be concerned about. She also made treats for us and would call periodically and tell us to meet her at the fence because she had something for us. She was such a kind lady, and as I sat at her funeral today, that sense of regret that I work so hard to live without came creeping back, poking me in the ribs, asking... why didn't you at least send her Christmas cards after you moved away? You were just at the baseball field next to her house last spring. You sat and watched the house while recalling happy memories as your children practiced with their baseball teams. You even thought about paying her a surprise visit. She would have been thrilled to meet Evyn and Reed and hear about how grown up Ashley is, but you decided against the surprise because YOU personally don't care for surprise visits. This is precisely why regret is something I choose to avoid living with. Death always has a way of reminding me how living with regret can eat you alive.
One thing I do know. I might regret not keeping in touch better, not trying harder to pay my final respects to a loved one or might even regret not asking the right questions to an elderly friend or family member, but I know that I have treated them with the type of love and respect that I wish to receive. I have never looked back during a funeral and thought that the deceased did not know I loved and respected them. I hope I never do. That right there is a good reason never to hold a grudge. Forgiveness feels so much better.
Today I am thankful to Granny East not only for her kindness and fond memories (not to mention her killer banana pudding) but also for reminding me of the regret that really only troubles me when one passes away. As Holly and I ramp up her father's care, struggle with taking on more of his daily needs and medical issues, we realize that we very well could be caring for a dying man. I know without a doubt that when her father passes, regret is not what I want to feel. The sadness that comes with death is unavoidable, the regret is not. I want to do anything I can to make sure that Grandpa knows how much we love him. If these days ahead are indeed leading us to his end, I want more than ever to be patient even in the most trying situations. I want to be friendly at all times and, most of all, I want us to do whatever it takes to make him feel content and comfortable. Thank you Granny East for the opportunity to realize and think deeply about these things before it is too late.
It only takes a minute to make someone feel special or to tell them you love them or have been thinking about them. If there is anyone in your life you keep randomly thinking about or keep meaning to connect with, I challenge you to do just that. Reach out. You never know if the opportunity will pass you by. Things left unsaid can lead to regret, save yourself the "I wish I had.." and just do it.
Monday, February 7, 2011
Grandpa
Several nights ago, Grandpa started feeling bad. By the time he got to us, he was having trouble breathing and we had to call 911. After what seemed like an eternity, firemen and the rescue squad showed up and saved his life. The next day, I was explaining the chain of events to Evyn and Reed. They slept through the commotion and had no idea that Grandpa had gotten so sick so suddenly.
Reed was really interested in hearing about how the firemen showed up first and shined their huge light up our driveway so the ambulance could easily get up to our house. After asking if the police came and hearing about who came inside first to start helping Grandpa, Reed then said, "well, when did the SWAT team get here"? The mind of a little boy never ceases to amaze and entertain.
Reed was really interested in hearing about how the firemen showed up first and shined their huge light up our driveway so the ambulance could easily get up to our house. After asking if the police came and hearing about who came inside first to start helping Grandpa, Reed then said, "well, when did the SWAT team get here"? The mind of a little boy never ceases to amaze and entertain.
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