It is much easier to write about love than to practice it. Much, much easier. I want to be very real with you tonight. Intimate in my transparency, if possible. I want to talk about what love put into practice looks like in my life. Right now. But to preface this revelation, I must say …
I have been reflecting the past few days on recovery. Recovery means different things to different people, as we are all aware. It means different things depending on the extent of the recovery period. A weekend bender requires less recovery than a broken leg. Of course, this goes without saying. A person recovering from painful, …
I write through tears. Words fail me tonight. Thoughts of empty arms fill the mind and tug at the heartstrings. That empty void. That numbness. That overwhelming sadness. That loss. That blond, shaggy mop of baby-fine hair. Just sends me reeling, over the edge. A need for answers, for understanding. For wisdom, acceptance and hope. …
I preach caring as the underlying, fundamental reason for why I teach. It is what drew me into teaching. It is why I stay. It’s always interesting to know why a person feels strongly for or against something they believe. And the reason I am FOR caring- FOR seeing people as potential, FOR believing that …
It’s who we are when the world’s not watching that really matters. I have been blessed to know a teacher who unbeknownst to him has inspired me to keep on teaching. Even when I don’t always like school. Even when I don’t always feel good enough to be a teacher. Even when I fail and …
I seem to find myself getting in the most trouble- the most predicaments, the most dilemmas and/or the most royal mess-ups/quandries when I am frantically racing. Racing, and not thinking. Which is to say ‘oops, I did it again’- there I go again, doing and saying things I wish I hadn’t. Omitting and forgetting that …
I was eight or nine when I first started feeling responsible for those silly, ridiculous things. Maybe even younger than that even. Which is not to say that I wasn’t perfectionist from the very start. My mother tells me that she once caught me picking up miniscule pieces of white lint off our red industrial …
Minus 37 with the wind chill factor. That one hour school delay affording the buses an extra hour off for idling- it should have been the ticket, really. There I was. Bleary-eyed from a night of restless sleep- worried over deadlines to come, papers to write, classes to teach and examinations to prepare for, jarred …
I park my van in a drift of snow, opening the door before realizing that the walkway has not been shoveled. I retrieve my bundle from the seat beside me and head back out. This time, I take the road. I turn and walk up the ramp and push open the door. The sign stuck …
Thirty-one years today since that pick-up truck plowed into her little car, leaving her motionless. The spark snuffed out. Leaving her to sit and moan the occasional word. Rubbing constantly at her crusted eye, still swollen shut. Her lifeless hands and legs. No animated gestures to light up a room. They’re nearly all but gone, …
What is it about falling snow that captivates the imagination like nothing else I know? What is it about the first snowfall of the season- and the next and then the next that just creates a feeling of contentment and joy? That fills a heart with gladness. What is it about falling snow that just …
The Christmas season was approaching and she felt an overwhelming sadness. The world around her seemed sad too. Distressing news abounded- from the biggest of stories to the heart-breaking ones that few ever heard. Even the weather seemed dismal at times: cold and dreary. One star-lit night, she found herself driving a familiar road. It …