Yes, We Are All Human!

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

I don’t get many personal phone calls on my cell phone during the day. Most of my friends know I’m at working, my daughters are also in school, and my husband knows that chances are I’m in a meeting or in a classroom. So, when my oldest daughter Larkin’s name came up as the caller, I answered it right away. Larkin is a sophomore at University of Michigan, and I am getting really excited to see her on Wednesday night! Some of you know Larkin from the March Slice of Life Challenge.

“Mom,” she said. “I think you messed up.”

I rolled my eyes. Good she couldn’t see me. Full disclosure: I was in the middle of writing a report, and Larkin loves drama and is known for embellishment.

“My ticket on Wednesday is from Hartford to Detroit, not Detroit to Hartford.”

I stopped multi-tasking.

“Right,” I said. “Why are you saying that?”

“I just checked my account, Mom,” she said. “My trip is booked from Hartford to Detroit.”

My heart started to pound. I didn’t want her to sense my panic. I just scribbled down her account numbers and password, and I told her I’d get it taken care of.

It’s amazing how quickly priorities can change. That report I was working on was FAR from the forefront of my brain. As I sat on hold with Delta, my mind raced. How much would this cost me? How would I explain that charge to my husband? What if there were no flights left? How impossible would it be to drive to Ann Arbor and turn around and drive back to Hartford? Finally, my new best friend came on to the line. I don’t even know her name, but trust me, she is my new best friend.

“I’ve made a very big, very bad mistake,” I said.

“Because you’re human?” she responded.

I LOVED this lady and all she had said to me were about those three words.

I explained the mistake, and she had Larkin booked on flights within minutes.

“I’m going to waive the $200 penalty for changing flights,” she said. “It’s obvious that this was a mistake.”

Had I just heard her right? Is it possible to hug someone through a phone line? Could she hear the relief and gratitude in my voice?

She apologized as she explained that she would have to charge me the price difference between the fares. “Let me just see what the difference is,” she said.

I prepared myself for a whopper. When she finally told me the difference was $63, I felt like I’d won the lottery.

My mistake could have been such a bigger problem than it was. Thank you to Delta, thank you to the woman whose name I don’t know. We are entering the season where many of us tend to take on too much, tend to have too many lists, tend to say yes too many times. (I’m a little extra frightened that my ticket purchasing debacle was a few weeks ago, before the start of the truly crazy season…)  Maybe this blog post will inspire others to be forgiving of mistakes and helpful in finding solutions, remembering that yes, we are all human.

Happy Writing, and Happy Holiday Season,

Letting Go

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

Many of you have gotten to know my dad over the years, as he has inspired many, many stories and slices. Last week, I wrote about holding on. This week, I write about letting go. 

My dad left us on Wednesday. I am working on putting together a cohesive set of memories about him for the service we will have on Friday, and part of it will wrap around the wisdom we have all gained from his life and his way of living.

The end of my dad's life wasn’t the one he envisioned full of trips, retirement homes, and grandchildren's college graduations. Thirteen years ago, our dad had a terrible accident and my brother Charlie was there to help him live.  Last Wednesday, it was Charlie who held Dad and told him to let go, he would never be forgotten and our paths will all cross again.  In those thirteen years, we have had the gift of more time with our father. In those thirteen years, his past faded and his future blurred, but Dad always, always, was up for an adventure, was up for the moment. Dad’s moments became what he knew and he always loved them--the game to watch, the concert to attend, the fish to catch, the cards to collect.

"How was your day, Dad?" we would ask him.

"I had a great day," he always answered.

He meant it, too. His moments mattered, because that's what he had, but that’s what we all have, and that could be Dad’s most important lesson. The wisdom I need to always keep. Moments matter. The moments of right here, right now.

Rest in peace, Dad. 

Slice of Life: Holding On

On Tuesdays, the community of Two Writing Teachers hosts the Slice of Life. Join the incredible community by writing a snippet of life, or even join with just a comment or two. Everyone is welcome!

On Sunday night, I met up with my writing group on our Google Hangout. (Do you capitalize those two words? I always debate that...) Toward the end of our meeting, I admitted that I have been the absentee slicer for the last few weeks. 

"We've noticed," one of them said.

"We miss you," another added.

"Honestly," I said, "what I'd write would probably be sadder than anyone would want to read."

"Try us," someone else says.

 "And, my blog is tricky. It's not about personal stuff. It's about educational stuff."

"Write on your personal blog," one of my writing partners said. 

I nod and sigh.

"By the end of the day, I'm beat," I want to say. "I'm just not up for getting back into work mode."

Because, from the time I walk into the door these days, I'm in full work mode. Not books. Not computers. Not reading. Not writing. 

I'm taking care of my dad.

But tonight, I'm on my personal blog, and I'm writing. And I don't think it's too depressing. (Maybe just a little...)

One of the most helpful posts that I read throughout my dad's sickness reminded me of the difference between the words have to and get to. I get to live with my dad as he is in the late stages of prostate cancer. I get to feed him. I get to help him walk. I get to brush his teeth, comb his hair, tuck him into bed... I get to love him through this inevitable part of his life. 

Caring for someone when they need help doing everything is hard and exhausting, but it is also intimate and full of moments to hold on to, cherishing and remembering. 

Tonight, I will hold on to the image of my brother inviting my dad to hug him, to put his arms around him and hold on. I will hold on to the image of the two of them wrapped in an embrace, my brother's strong arms around Dad's frail body. 

I will hold on.

Becaue, from the time I walk in the door

Slice #29 of 31- The Struggles of What to Wear...

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Having some interesting parenting moments tonight...you'd think that I'd be safe in Ann Arbor far away from daughters 2, 3, and 4. Nope. Not so much. Just as we got on to the elevator at the hotel, sharing the elevator with another family, my phone rang. It was Julia, my second daughter. 

"Mom," Julia said. "Did you bring your black boots?"

In the elevator, I looked down at my feet. "Yep, Jules," I said. "I'm wearing them."

Everyone in the elevator looked at me. And laughed. I'm sure that she meant to say hi and how are you...formalities can be so overrated.

Once we got into the hotel room, Julia facetimed Larkin. I sat on the other bed listening to the two of them debate what Julia will wear tonight when her friends take her out for a birthday dinner. 

"Hi Larkin," Julia said through the computer. "I'm mad at Clare, so I need you to help me figure out what to wear."

"Thanks," said Larkin. "Good to know where I stand."

Apparently, Clare, my third daughter, claimed and was wearing my other pair of boots that everyone likes to wear. Poor Julia. She did not make an early enough claim on boots to wear for her night on the town. 

Somehow I'm certain that Julia will look good when it's time to go out. Never a dull moment with four girls, even from far away.

Happy Slicing,

Slice #28 of 31- Celebrating and Missing a Friend

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

March 27. That was yesterday. 

Sometimes slices are written the day before. 

Yesterday was my friend's birthday. 

While she was always there for me when she was here, 

my friend has been right by my side since September,

 helping me write a book.

Reminding me of her laugh.

Of her generosity.

Of her love for a good time.

Of her capacity to make everyone feel like her best friend.

How did she do that?

She's brought me together with people I didn't know before and now I love.

She's reconnected me with people who I have missed, and now cherish. 

She's reminded me that the impact we make while we are here, because my book 

celebrates

her laugh

her listening

her generosity

her love for bringing people together

her acceptance of everyone.

I miss her.

I miss my friend 

Who would--no should-- be fifty-two

And a day.

Slice #24 of 31- Do They Know?

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Over the weekend, my husband and my second daughter, Julia, trekked down to Virginia for a soccer tournament. As is his tendency, Garth provided me with a lot of information via a stream of texts about Julia and the games. While I normally could live with fewer updates, I was happy to read all of his messages this weekend, since this tournaments is a major college recruiting event. We are completely out of our element with all of this, trying to figure it out--collaborate to create the right texts, help her concoct the right emails, get her ready to play her best soccer...

The scene? Hundreds of ultimately athletic girls kicking, running, trapping, looking full of swag and confidence on acres of turf fields as coaches walk around. Are all those girls really that confident, or are they wondering and worrying too?

"Can you tell who the coaches are?" I texted.

"The ones with clipboards and hats," Garth texted. "And their hats make it clear."

Do those coaches know that one-fourth of my soul is running around on that field? 

Do they know?

Happy Slicing,

Slice #22 of 31- Struggles With a Snowblower

For the month of March, I am participating in the Slice of Life Challenge, hosted by the community of writers at Two Writing Teachers. Many of my slices are at my personal blog, Just Write, Melanie, but ones that deal specifically with education appear at Two Reflective Teachers. All are welcome to join the slicing party by reading and commenting. People write amazing posts.

Is it bad to admit that I have had a personal goal to NOT learn how to use the snowblower? I mow the lawn, my husband makes lunches, but I'm been pretty happy with the snowday routine of Garth plowing the driveway and me making him coffee. Sometimes, even an omelette. 

Last night, it snowed. And Garth is in Virginia at a soccer tournament with D2. (Daughter #2). He said that snowblowing isn't too tough. I could do it. (He needs to spend a little time reading Peter Johnston or Carol Dweck so that he understands growth mindset. You don't tell someone who is facing a new and daunting task that it will be easy.)

So, this morning, with Garth on the phone, I headed on to try to start the snowblower. 

"Just prime it a few times, shift it to the choke setting, and pull the rope," he said. "It'll start right up.

Is this the right time to admit that I didn't know where the rope was, mistook the primer cord for the starting code, pulled it, and broke it? Maybe I'll have him find that out when he reads the post...

So, I held the broken primer cord together and was able to get the thing started. Proudly, I headed up the driveway. It sort of reminded me of a blank sheet of paper. All mine to make my mark on...

Then, I got into some trouble. See, Garth sent me this text AFTER I came in from the driveway:

Key question in this exchange: did you start in the middle? Nope, I didn't. I think that I might know what having a learning disability could feel like because I am that bad at mechanical things and  So, when I got to about this point, I started to have trouble:

Anywhere I went, I was blowing snow back on to the parts of the driveway I'd already completed. Again, the writing parallel: plan first so you have a sense of what's going to come next. Otherwise, you're going to have a bit of a mess that you can't easily fix.

I went over some of the parts I had already done since I covered them with more snow, reminding myself of the revising process. As the machine roared in front of me, I debated. "How perfect does this driveway really need to be?" See the center strip of snow in the picture below? Is that one worth going after? It would mean more work on the parts around it. Isn't this SO like writing???

The picture that I took of my cup of coffee didn't come out well because it is a black mug, but I found the words on-line:

"Not snowblowing," I thought to myself!

As it turned out, the sun has helped my less than perfect job on the driveway.

 Now, what to do about that broken part? All secrets stay on the blog...

Happy Slicing!