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It was our first publishing event and when the whirlwind of set up finally settled, I began to look about the room and notice what happens within the nooks and crannies of an experience like this one. What I noticed I think was something necessary. In the quiet of the classroom, where students wore masks and kept themselves at a distance, there were humans connecting with other humans. They connected in the room with reading and writing, in ways that maybe only quiet can bring into light. These young writers connected with one another with small pieces of colored paper―notes left for the authors. I don’t really know if there could be anything much more powerful than moments like these in a classroom. “I’m sorry about your sister…” “I loved your story… it made me laugh…” “I hope you didn’t have anything else that is bad.” “Your story made me sad. But I loved it…” If there were a way to see what healing looks like, I’m sure it was then that it happened. 
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 There was a time when we could huddle and come close to laugh and smile. It is important that we notice the times that overflowed with love.  There were unexpected needs to fill and so we tried to fill them. Cotton bags with books plastic bags to fill the bellies. It is important that we notice there are those with greater need.  Baby chicks that fill the heart a son’s recipe for the world’s best cookies. It is important that we stop and notice when there is sweetness in the air.  There were birthdays that were celebrated flowers that grew love. It is important that we notice when things are done with love.  Look up into the sky for peace. It’s so easy to forget. It is important that we notice places where light and earth connect.  There were lessons to be learned. Familiar faces in strange new places. It is important that we notice places where there’s great need to reconnect.  The dried flowers and their seeds promised hope would grow again. It is important to remember that not all our hopes come true.  Remember to look up again to experience the good. It is important to take time to notice the place where light and night caress before they say goodbye.  There are poems that exist that help us say goodbye. It is important that we notice when it’s time for us to say goodbye.  There were times to start anew. Bruised and tired on occasion. It is important that we notice when it’s time to stop and find a day to start again.  And there are little things around us. They remind us to find joy. It is important that we notice every little thing the goodness that surrounds us.  Through inevitable accidents that force a time for rest. It is important that we notice things will carry on without us.  In times of healing rest, there are memories of years ago of tiny feet, in tiny summer shoes. It is important that we notice those we love. It is important that they know.  There were battles fought with quiet strength. Battles not yet finished. It is important that we stand for things. So, stand for things that are important.  Those tiny feet,
in tiny shoes, not tiny anymore, continue learning how to stand for something. It is important that we notice what we do who we are and what we stand for We plant seeds that do take root. On October 28th, my husband and I will celebrate 25 years of marriage. That. Is. A. Long. Time.
There is a lot to celebrate, our two sons are our greatest reason to celebrate. We will also celebrate having come this far, this long, and still sleep in the same bed. I’m not sure if anyone knows, but marriage is not an easy thing to do. Last week, I received a comment on one of my posts, from Maureen Ingram. She wrote, “I loved this phrase, “we learned to smile with our eyes” – and think it would be a beautiful opening line to a poem about these times, yes?” Teaching in the classroom this year proved to truly be a place for change and learning for all who entered.
While I have been working my best to distance myself from the news that surrounds every place communication resides, I decided to focus my attention on joy. It is important to find joy, but sometimes I forget to look for it. Sometimes I need to remember on purpose, so today I chose to write a simple list of things that bring me joy. They were listed as they came, in no particular order.
 Each year that passes, I think of them. That class. The one that left a permanent mark. It was a year that changed me. It may have been a year that changed all of us. When I think back on that class, I’m reminded of all that was good and all that was imperfect. We took all that we knew and all that we didn’t know and became explorers, daring into the unknown to learn more.
When I was a kid, my parents worked hard to keep me away from sad experiences. They especially worked to keep me from experiences connected to death. That all changed at about the age of seven. It was the summer of the best game of tag.
I must have been 19 when I took this trip with my dad. We were on our way to Los Angeles. To prep for the one hour trip, I remembered to grab a small cotton hand towel to dry my hands. I don’t like the feel of moist hands, especially when I drive. About 25-30 minutes into the drive, my hands began to feel a little moist. With one hand on the steering wheel, I reached down for the towel with my left hand. Just a quick rub on the cotton towel. No big deal. We were moving close to 70 mph, but I didn’t need to shift my eyes from the road to reach for the towel.
Looking down at my hand this afternoon, I noticed that the large cut on my left palm has healed. It took a few days, but I’m relieved to know that it is much better. In the time it took for me to look it over, memories of the car accident my son had a few years ago began to fill my mind. It took months for him to recover. It was a trauma for him, for all of us. The process of changing bandages, keeping him comfortable and calm is all I focused on those few months. That was not as important as having had him survive it all. He was alive and had both of his legs. All he needed was to heal and learn to walk again. It is as far as my mind will allow me to return to that experience, so my memories push further back to a class I took in high school.
She came in to schedule my next appointment, but in our few minutes we gained much more than I expected.
“Hello” she said from behind the mask, as she sat down and began the search for dates on the screen. “I’m going to schedule your next appointment… are you okay with scheduling it for next year?” “Yes, of course,” I said. |
AuthorI write. I read. I learn... and then I write some more. 
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