• Enter your email address to subscribe to this blog and receive notifications of new posts by email.

    Join 78 other subscribers
  • “Writing, to me, is simply thinking through my fingers” — Isaac Asimov

  • Recent Posts

  • Pages

  • Categories

  • Archives

  • Blog Stats

    • 195,641 hits

When AuburnChick Screams at the TV…

When I, AuburnChick, scream at the TV, you know something big is happening.

Especially while watching sporting events.

I’m fairly laid-back when watching a game, race, or soccer match on TV.

But…

That changed last night as I watched the Auburn-Georgia game.

As you might infer from my name, I am an Auburn fan.

No, I do not have auburn-colored hair, as some have asked.

I grew up in a small town in Alabama where the choice to be an Alabama or Auburn fan is decided for each person while that person is still in the womb.  Long-standing family traditions are the deciding factor.

I moved to Alabama when I was nine years old and had to make a choice.  I liked the way orange and blue looked together, and I also liked the way Auburn played, for I was watching football in my room, by myself, while most girls were playing with Barbies.

Anyoo, I am digressing.

That was all a setup to explain how deep my affection runs for my team.

But still, it is usually a quiet affection.

Last night was different.

I’d begun removing my Auburn-themed jewelry as I sat and watched the game.

Heck, we were up by twenty points.

I’d even thought of a good friend of mine…a Georgia fan…and considered posting something on his Facebook wall.

Ha.

The football gods laughed at me as Georgia began making a comeback.

The score got closer and closer, and finally, to my dismay, Georgia was ahead.

Auburn was not looking good.  Our quarterback had lost the mojo he’d been finely displaying earlier in the game.

I looked at my jewelry sitting on the table and wondered if I’d jinxed the game.

I quickly put it back on as Auburn got the ball back.

We were sucking, let me tell you.

It came down to the 4th down with eighteen freaking (yes, I said that) yards to go for a first down.

I frantically ate my way through a bowl of Cajun boiled peanuts, my fingernails digging into each shell…taking out my nerves on those poor, innocent peanuts that were refusing to come out of their shells, just as Auburn was refusing to put up good plays.  (I’m still digging peanut guts out from under my fingernails.)

And then the following happened…

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Gf5jnajTKJI

This is when calm and collected AuburnChick began screaming at the television.

My next-door neighbors might have thought someone had died.

My dogs started barking.

And still I screamed, at the top of my lungs.

I’m sure the volume was similar to that of the stadium.

But there were still 25 seconds to play.

I dug into more peanuts and watched, horrified, as Georgia’s quarterback led his team down the field making one good pass after another.

Dang those amazing college athletes.

It all came down to three seconds…one last play.

It was do or die.

We sacked the QB, and once again…

I started screaming at the TV…

And the dogs started barking.

Oh.

My.

Gosh.

My Twitter and Facebook feeds blew up.

I got up to get something to drink.

As I tried to pour Chick-fil-A sweet tea (this is the South) from the gallon I’d purchased earlier, my hands shook.

It was all I could do to prevent a huge spill.

I sat back down on the couch, and I promise you that my legs were still shaking.

It was an amazing game that could have gone either way.

Georgia certainly deserved a win given how the team had come back from a large deficit.

As a mom of a college athlete, my heart went out to those boys on the field.

For a second anyway.

At my core, I’m all about Auburn…one of the only teams that will turn THIS mild-mannered Southern girl into a raving lunatic who screams at the TV during college football season.

 

Puppy Pampering

I feel the need to apologize for not writing much of late.

I’ve been incredibly busy with teaching, lesson planning, and grading.  I come home exhausted and without any brain cells left to write with!

I have been teaching my students to write…something I am passionate about…so at least I’ve got an outlet.  Still, I’m missing my blog and my readers!

On Tuesday, students in my district had to write essays based on grade-level responses.

These essays had to be graded.

Guess who got selected to help with this task?

Yep.

I had a half-day sub on Friday and must have graded over 100 essays in two and a half hours.

Although I had dreaded the work, it wound up being a little fun.  Students are simply amazing, and I heard their voices through their written prose.

Afterward, my brain was fried beyond repair, so I headed to my nail salon where I went for something a little wild…a suggestion made by one of my students earlier that day…

It’s my tech’s version of cheetah nails.  I like them a lot!

Today, Gambit got me up early (Rooster is spending the weekend in Auburn for the big game against Georgia).  I was glad, though, because I was able to get stuff for school finished.  I have my first of two observations on Tuesday.  Although I already had my lesson plans finished, everybody knows that we have turn things up a bit when administrators come in.  Truth be told, the observations are good for me, because they make me analyze my plans and incorporate more engaging activities and student reflection opportunities…things I need to be doing EVERY time I teach but sometimes get too tired or lazy (ahem) to do.

I took a break and ran errands.  While at Sams, I found a little something for my fur babies.  I couldn’t wait to get home and surprise them.

Yes, I am a sad creature, am I not?  With my non-furry babies grown and one of them out of the house living on her own, I pour my attention on my dogs.

Take a look at how they responded to the new, PoochPlanet ThermaLuxe (I’m not getting paid to mention the name) dog bed…

A bit of wistfulness entered my heart as I thought about how much Aubie would have loved this.  Sure wish I’d found one like it when she was still here.  I miss her so.  😦

Meanwhile, Gambit took a turn on it…

I don’t think he likes it.

Not one bit.

Pele returned to it early this evening.  He is one of the sweetest, gentlest giants of a dog.  The look on his face is priceless.  That is one happy dog!

I don’t know about you, but pampering my dogs brings a smile to my face when I see their human-like reactions.

A Crafty Hodgepodge

Wednesday always seems to roll around so quickly these days, does it not?  I’ve been a busy gal and haven’t had quite as much time to blog, so Joyce‘s questions keep me going during the weeks when work seems to get the best of me.  Thanks, as always, for the great questions!

1.  Describe a typical Sunday from your childhood.

I grew up in a small town in Alabama.  Life centered around church.  A typical Sunday involved church in the morning, some sort of lunch at home afterward, perhaps a nap or reading, and church in the evening.  It was very low-key.

2.  How comfortable are you with uncertainty? Explain.

I do not like uncertainty.  Heck, I’m a teacher so, despite despising lesson planning, doesn’t color outside of the lines.  I like knowing what’s coming up so I can plan accordingly.

3.  What have you accomplished recently that might be described as crafty, as in ‘arts and crafts’ crafty?  If crafty doesn’t work for you, how about handy? Or both?

I’ve been doing a lot more knitting thanks to the Harry Potter Knit/Crochet House Cup that I joined on Ravelry.  I’m a Hufflepuff, by the way.

My latest creation is a Face Spa Cloth.  It was a simple, quick knit…rewarding because of the instant gratification.

4.  Have you ever worked in a ‘food place’? What did you take away from the experience?

I have never worked in the food industry and admire all of those who do.  It seems to be a thankless job.

5.  Cold turkey, talk turkey, what a turkey…in recent days, which turkey phrase or idiom best applies to you and why? Click on the word turkey if you need to read more about the meaning behind each phrase.

I gave up sodas cold turkey about a month ago.  To my credit, I was not hooked on Mt. Dew, as in the past.  I think my students are proud of me because I had talked a good game, but when push came to shove, I “turned up,” as they would say, and was true to my word.

6.  If you could have any one guest join your Thanksgiving dinner table, who would it be?

I think that this year, I’d go with Mama Dot, the Mr.’s sweet grandmother, who passed away a little over a week ago.  She was a lovely lady who was such an inspiration to me with her strong faith.  Her best friend passed away six days after her, and I know they are going to be enjoying a fine Thanksgiving meal at the table that God, Himself, will be dining at.  What an honor!  We are certainly going to miss her during the holidays!

7.  What is one thing you must accomplish today?

Oh good grief…just one thing, Joyce?  I am a teacher with an endless list of things to do.

I think I’d like to get my new anchor chart drawn up so my students will see, on the wall, a copy of the concept map we’ve been using of late.  They are learning about main idea and details, and my grand idea this year was to teach them how to write an essay, organizing ideas and details, so they can turn around and identify these items in others’ writing.  Fingers crossed that my strategy works.

8.  My Random Thought

Speaking of concept maps…

My district has been administering school-wide writing prompts as a way to address low writing scores.  We had our second prompt yesterday, and several of my students came in and told me that they had used (or attempted to) the concept map I’d taught them the week before.  One student, in fact, told me that his map had kept him focused on his topic…YAY!  Another student told me that every time she forgot what she was writing about, she looked at her map.  Double YAY!

I feel incredibly validated as a teacher.  I have been trying to help my students see the value of what I’m teaching, but until they are placed in a situation such as this one, they really don’t “get it.”

A teacher sometimes doesn’t know what’s going to stick.  I think I’ve found one thing that will.  I hope that my students will be life-long writers…or at least a bit better at it…after the series of lessons I’m conducting.

Sometimes They Surprise Me

Yesterday afternoon, as soon as school let out, I had to do what teachers don’t always like to do.

I had to call parents because of some unacceptable behavior that was going on.

Today, I braced myself for the fallout…figuring that the kids would come in angry and resentful.

One of my students stopped by before school started and asked if I’d called his mother yesterday.

I answered honestly.

He laughed, told me everything was okay, and said that he was going to do better and focus more.

I nearly fell out of my chair.

True to his word, when his class period rolled around, he came in smiling, sat himself away from the students who might distract him, and kept himself busy with his work.

Another student, in the same class bounced in before the bell rang.

When I called her back to tell her about her new seat, explaining that it wasn’t punishment, she nodded, smiled, and went to her new table.

That was it.

As class proceeded, she participated in everything that was going on…without an attitude.

The same thing happened with the third student whose father I’d talked to.

I had fretted all evening about those phone calls because, quite honestly, these are good kids.  They aren’t overtly rude.  They are simply very social and passionate about their feelings.

They are teenagers…good ones.

I wanted to maintain a good rapport.

I’d worried for nothing.

They treated me with respect, and I, in turn, respect them for that.

Teenagers are so awesome…frequently given less credit than they are due.

I love my career choice!

A Letter to Chicky On Her First Official Day of Teaching – You Were Meant to Be…

Dear Chicky,

Today is your first “official” day of teaching.

It is the day that you will finally meet the class that was created for you.

Although you didn’t sound too nervous on the phone yesterday afternoon, I’m sure you’re probably feeling butterflies even as I type this.

I think it’s really neat that, because I am only into my fourth year of teaching, I can easily relate to what you’re going through today…the anticipation…the hopes…the overwhelmingly long to-do list.

You have been prepared for this day by an incredible education.

You know so much more about the “how-to’s” of teaching than I did my first day.  Your students are fortunate, because I know that you won’t waste a second with bad lesson plans because all of your plans are going to be well thought out and based on research-based strategies.

If I can be real honest with you, though, teaching is about so much more than the “how-to’s.”

It’s about building relationships with your children…learning about them as individuals…understanding how their unique traits create a classroom personality that will be different each year you teach.

Cover your children in prayer daily, for you don’t know the homes they come from and the challenges they struggle with after they exit your room.

Build them up with positive words.  Those words will leave permanent impressions upon their hearts.

Remember that you will never be able to love them too much.

There’s simply no such thing.

I am so proud of you!

I am so thankful that those children were handpicked by the Lord to be in your classroom.

Those children will be changed.

Your life will be changed.

Get ready for the biggest roller coaster ride you’ve ever been on.

Hang on tight, don’t take their hurtful words (for they will come) too personally, and enjoy the ride, my precious Daughter.

Welcome to the world of teaching, where you receive far more than you give.

Love,

Mama ♥

Got An Hour to Spare for the Hodgepodge?

I don’t know about you, but this extra hour thing, backwards or forwards, is not an easy adjustment!!!  At least we can count on some things being easy…Joyce’s Hodgepodge, for one!  I love these questions because I get to share details about my life that only my Twitter and Facebook followers get to hear.  heehee

Shall we proceed?

1.  My sister is celebrating a birthday today. Happy Birthday little sis! What’s one way you’re like your siblings?  If you don’t have siblings how are you like your lifelong best friend or cousin?

Super Sis and I didn’t think we were too much alike when we were growing up.  She was so pretty…had the boyfriends…was a cheerleader.  I was more nerdy and socially awkward.

As we’ve grown older and have had many conversations, we’ve often said, “You felt that way too?” Or, “Me too.”

One fun thing we discovered a number of years ago was a mutual love for Peanut Butter Cups.  We were on our way to the movies, and of course, we had to pick up treats to pack in our purses (don’t say you don’t do the same thing).  I remember buying a bag of the cups and discovering that she, too, loved them!  We ate the entire bag during that movie.

It was a little thing but still a neat “aha” moment.

2.  What’s the first thing that comes to mind when you think of yourself at age eighteen?

Naive.

My life wasn’t perfect, and I had some very big issues from my childhood to deal with, but none of those things were at the forefront of my mind at that age.  I’d spent half of my life in a small town and had never experienced real life beyond it.  Going to college, even if I did commute, seeing how “the other half” lived, and then marrying a year later was an eye opener.

In many ways, I am still naive, but I find it a blessing.

3.  Sculptor-actor-painter-dancer…if you could excel in one of these arts, which would you choose and why?

I’d want to be a dancer.

A ballroom dancer.

So I could be on Dancing With the Stars.

And dance with Derek Hough.

You have my permission to call me a cougar.

Meow

4.  What’s a scent that takes you back in time, and where does it take you?

Jean Nate takes me back to my teenage years.  I specifically remember putting in on during cold winter months in the tiny bathroom that I got ready in (old, drafty house…not allowed to turn on the heat upstairs).

Strange how our memories run together, eh?

5.  November is for Peanut Butter Lovers (National Peanut Butter Lovers Month).  Are you a lover or a hater?  What’s your favorite dish/recipe that calls for peanut butter?

Well, I think I sort-of answered this question, in part, in #1.

As far as favorite dishes, I think I”d have to say that the vegan Chocolate Peanut Butter Tartlets I made this summer have to be my new favorite dish.  EVERYONE who tried them loved them.

Yum!

6.  What do people thank you personally for most often?

I get asked most often for help with technology and, thus, I get thanked for providing the requested assistance.  In fact, a fellow reading teacher asked for help with the grade book yesterday.  🙂

7.  What event this year are you most thankful for?

Only one, Joyce?  Seriously?

It’s got to be a toss-up between my Chicky’s final outing on the soccer field for Senior Night (one of the most emotional days I’ve ever spent as a parent) and the fact that she starts her very first day of teaching (with her kiddos) TODAY!!!!!!!!!!

8.  My Random Thought

I got my nails done the afternoon of Halloween.  It was quiet in the salon…everyone had already headed out to take their children trick or treating.  There was a YouTube playlist running overhead, and as I watched the screen to read the names of the various artists, one kept playing over and over again with her various songs.  I’d never heard of her before…probably because I listen to Christian music most of the time…but I found her music soothing to my soul.

Her name is Ingrid Michaelson.

How would I describe her?  Well, she reminds me of Norah Jones…a bit folksy.  I love the instrumentals.  It’s the kind of music you hear in the background of television dramas.

I went right home and created a playlist to run when my students are in stations because it is calming.

Have you heard of her before?

You Were Always Special

I wanted to share a conversation that I had after the graveside service for Mama Dot.

I saw a former teacher who had taught me Home Ec and various science classes when I attended Small Town High School.

Her daughter and I were good friends, and we have reconnected through Facebook.

This teacher was the Mr.’s mom’s college roommate and played the piano at my wedding.

She lost her husband a little over a year ago…an amazing man…and my heart has been heavy for her.

As we hugged, we began a conversation that will probably always stay with me.

First, she told me she loved me.

Oh wow.

Can you say powerful?

We shared some laughs about basketball antics that had occurred when I was in high school.  Her daughter and I were on the team, and there were a few funny moments during one particular game.  Perhaps I’ll share one day, if I can determine that I haven’t already.

Then, Ms. “M” said the thing that will ALWAYS sit in my memory, Lord willing.

She told me, “You were always really special.  You were smart, but you were really special.”

The conversation stopped.

I tried to process what she was saying.

Then I said, “Well, I didn’t feel smart.  I worked hard for every grade I got.”

That’s when she repeated, “You were always special.”

I saw her again at the church for dinner afterward and hugged her one more time…her words repeating themselves in my mind.

“You were always special.”

What did she mean, specifically?  I wish I’d asked.

As we drove home that evening, I told the Mr. about our conversation.

He couldn’t see my face as I shared because it had gotten dark, but tears were streaming down my face, and they are right now as I type this.

Growing up, I most certainly did NOT feel special.

I was not pretty…had the ugliest hair cut ever thanks to horrible instructions given by my mother to her hairdresser.  There were no Chis around at the time either.

I wasn’t very popular…or at least I didn’t feel that way.  Other girls always won the awards and got nominated for Homecoming attendant.

I was socially awkward and seemed to say the wrong things at just the wrong times.

What in the world made me special?

Her words have given me pause to reflect.

Her words also made me grateful for a woman who, though out of the classroom, continues to be a positive influence in my life by speaking words of affirmation.

Our conversation was a reminder of how important it is to speak words of love to those we teach.  You just never know when even the smallest comment will touch a person’s soul, just as hers did mine.

Thank you, Ms. M, for being one of the best teachers I ever had.

You were so tough.  Your tests freaked me out.  The way you made us get our tests signed…always when we’d made bad grades…helped keep us accountable.  Even though I got grounded, your encouragement helped me bring up my chemistry grade to an A because I not only wanted to get out of trouble but wanted to please you.

Your Home Ec class was the BEST ever.  I still have the apron I made.  The muffins we baked during the winter months were the best, even if they were from a Martha White package.  Just the fact that you let us walk to the Dixie Dandy each morning to get those mixes made things even more fun (sure can’t do that nowadays, eh?).

You have always been a wonderful mother to D and R, and I envied them for the support you always showed them.

Thank you for lifting my spirits and helping me see my young self in a new light.  Perhaps I’ll be able to let go of some of those childhood insecurities that were created by a false sense of self.

I didn’t say this back to you, but I wish I had:  You were always special to me too.

Love you so much!

♥,

AuburnChick

Small Town Send-Off

Yesterday, we got up early and headed to Alabama to attend Mama Dot’s funeral.

It was a crisp morning…not a cloud in the sky…perfect driving weather.

As we turned onto a back road, this lovely scenery greeted us, thus beginning the feelings of nostalgia that drives such as this one invoke…

Mama Dot lived in Small Town, Alabama.

It’s the town where I attended school, one town over from Other Small Town, Alabama.

When I say town, I mean that there are no traffic lights, except for the caution light that flashes beside the fire station.

It’s the kind of town you see depicted on television, only there are no props or other set decorations.

We arrived at Mama Dot’s house and greeted the Mr.’s parents.

Being in Mama Dot’s house…without her…was very, very strange.

It was almost as though she had never left.

Her makeup was still sitting on the bathroom counter, a robe hung from the back of the door, and other personal effects neatly in place in various spots.

I didn’t go into the kitchen or any other room in the house.

I just couldn’t.

As we waited to head to the church for lunch, a few people stopped by.

I’ll talk about one of the visitors in a post I’m going to write in a day or two.  She is a very special person to me.

Super Sis and her family arrived, changed clothes, and we headed to the small Baptist church, where a group of ladies and gentlemen hosted lunch for around fifty family and close acquaintances.

Folks, I don’t know if you’ve ever seen those kinds of fixings before, but let me tell you…small-town Southern people come together like nobody’s business when a loved one passes away.

There was a smorgasbord of food…stuff even I could eat.

I filled up on every kind of field peas, green peas, and collard greens that I could get on my plate, topped off by freshly sliced tomatoes.

There was fried chicken, ham, mashed potatoes, and all kinds of other dishes…enough for three or four long tables set end-to-end.

There was a separate dessert table.  I couldn’t tell you what was on it because I skipped it.

As we walked through the line, I greeted the hostesses…many of whom were my childhood friends’ mamas.

Oh, the hugs, let me tell you, and the whispered conversations.

You have to have grown up in a small town to understand what I mean.

Everyone loved Mama Dot, and I think everyone in town contributed to that meal in some way or another.

Visitation was right after.

I can’t do open caskets.  I prefer to remember people in their living states, so I stayed outside, which turned out to be such a blessing because I got to talk to a lot of people I had not seen in years.

Sharon was one of my classmates.  We graduated together, and her whole family was at the church.  I’d never met her sons before.  They are already in high school.  I keep up with their sports feats through Facebook.  She’s an elementary teacher, and we always shared a passion for reading, so we had fun discussing which authors our kids are reading, classroom management tips, and laughs about runs to the restroom between classes.

I spent time talking to the Mr.’s cousins…all boys I’d gone to school with.  I’m especially close with the oldest two and have enjoyed watching their families grow over the years.  Still, we rarely get together, so being able to hug one another and catch up, face-to-face, was truly a blessing.  I love those guys like they were my own brothers.

Palm Buddies forever, guys.  😉

I spoke with one of Mama Dot’s caregivers…a lady who, coincidentally enough, is the grandmother of a student I taught two years ago.  I think I blogged about that when we discovered the connection.  It was so good to see her again and share a laugh or two about her granddaughter, who is, by the way, maturing in to a fine young lady.  She will graduate in 2015, and I cannot wait to watch her cross the stage.

Mama Dot could never have made it without her gentle, round-the-clock, assistants.

The funeral that immediately followed the visitation was a celebration of Mama Dot’s life, and everyone laughed as the preacher shared some of his favorite memories…stories that made us nod our heads and say, “Yep.  That was Mama Dot for you.”

One thing that struck out and that was true Mama Dot style was that the Word of God was preached.  She loved God so much and wanted others to accept Him as their Savior so they could have eternal life.  If someone didn’t hear that message, I think they need their ears checked!!!  Maybe they need to do a gut check, actually.  🙂

We followed the hearse to the cemetery, which was behind the Methodist church but is the one that everyone uses…another typical thing you’ll find in a small town.

As we drove around the back, I saw the names of families that I was very familiar with.  Small towns don’t have a lot of different last names.  It seems as though everyone is related to everyone else or will be before they die.

The graveside service was short.

She will be buried next to her husband, who passed away seven years ago.

As I began making my way to the car, I stopped to chat with other folks I had missed at the church.

Oh word, but let me tell you…when it’s been years and years since you’ve seen someone…well, you just want to hold onto them forever…freeze the moment.

Where’s a Starbucks when you need one (not in Small Town, Alabama, that’s for sure).

I could have stayed for hours catching up with people.  There’s still so much on my heart that I’d like to tell them and so much I’d like to hear about their lives.

But alas, it was time to go back to the church to eat dinner from the fixings from lunch.

Before I got in the car, though, I took a quick walk to another family plot…one that is home to a young lady I attended school with.  She died tragically when we were in the seventh grade, and every time I visit Small Town, Alabama, I visit her grave.

As I placed my hand on her name, birth and death dates, memories took over, and I was swept away to the seventh grade.

Yeah right, you may be thinking.

No, seriously.

I can remember stuff that people wouldn’t believe.

I’d noticed that the family plot had been added to in recent years, and her headstone changed as well…to make room for more family members.

When you live in a small town, you want your family near you, in life and in death.

Dinner back at the church was filled with more sharing as I saw yet another old friend…one that the Mr. had grown up knowing and had roomed with in college.  He hasn’t changed one single bit…still as handsome as ever and carrying a look in his eyes that spoke of mischief.

It was hard to leave this group behind, and as we drove away, finally headed home, I sighed deep in my soul.

I don’t know when I’ll get back to Small Town, Alabama.

Mama Dot was the matriarch.  We gathered together to honor her wishes to keep the family close, and with everyone so spread out, it will be hard to find time to meet up.

Driving to and from Alabama made me sad because I felt as though the door was closing on my childhood…once and for all.

When we had been making the rounds, visiting with different people, a comment struck me.  Someone said, “The town is dying out.”

Yes, it really is.  With the older generation passing away, and the younger generation moving away, the town is growing smaller and smaller.

I’ll treasure the memories from this one day, though, as a small town came together to pay honor to a fine, Christian, woman who is now resting with Jesus.

Group Hug

On Friday, I posted about the loss of our family’s sweet Mama Dot, the Mr.’s grandmother.

I wanted to share a precious story about that day.

I was teaching my 6th/7th period class (I have them for ninety minutes), when I received word that Mama Dot probably wasn’t going to make it through the day.

That news was very upsetting, and try as I might, I couldn’t hide my sadness.

I assured my students that I would be okay, and I kept teaching.

Less than thirty minutes later, I got the news that Mama Dot had passed away.

My kids were watching me carefully and knew immediately that the news was bad.

One of my students said, “Mrs. AuburnChick, you’re really having a rough year.”

What she was referring to was the day, only a month and a half before, when Chicky had called me to tell me about her knee.

It was this same class that had assured me that things would be okay.

On Friday, they were there for me again.

As I attempted to resume class, half of my students surrounded me, and I heard one say, spontaneous, “Group hug!”

They put their arms around me, and one young man, an energetic guy who has a winsome personality, put his arms around all of us.

It was a quick hug but one filled with so much empathy and love.

This class is comprised of mostly girls, with only four boys on the roster.

They are all very sensitive, with their youthful hearts that feel pain deeply.

Their kindness lifted my spirits and went a long way toward healing the frustration felt by all of us at recent classroom behavior.

We truly are a community – one that shares joys and sorrows in the condition we call humanness.

I will always treasure that hug.

Well Done, Good and Faithful Servant

Dear Mama Dot,

You entered this world 98 years ago.  Today, you entered heaven.

I am so thankful I got to see you one last time in September; however, our visit did not afford me the time I needed to tell you just how much you have meant to me.

I met you twenty-five years ago.

You opened your home to me every Saturday, when you served the kind of lunch that always typified your home…large, home-cooked, Southern food…much of it battered and fried…vegetables straight from the garden.

How I treasured those meals.  They were among the best I’ve ever eaten, prepared by your faithful companion, Mary.

You were quite the spry thing for a lady in her 70’s, and your sense of humor was wicked.

Time passed, you got older, and our visits became infrequent.

Still, I knew I could always count on you to “ask” me to take you to Walmart every time I visited.

I still smile when I remember how you were quick to go off on your own the second we entered those doors.  It was your time to shop, and you wanted no part of whatever I was doing in the store.

That was okay with me, because we usually met up at the cash register after an hour…right about the time you’d had your fill.

I remember how you purchased my first honest-to-goodness supply of Christmas decorations.  The Mr. was not happy at the large bags of wrapping paper and lights that came home with me the first few years.

One of my favorite things that you used to say, when in the middle of slipping us some money, was never to, “Let your left hand know what your right was doing.”

That was code for, “Don’t you dare tell Papa Bernard that I gave you money.”

You knew that he’d be slipping us some before we left, and to say anything about what you’d given would make him change his mind.

I remember the Christmas when I was upset about how my visit with my own mom had gone.  I was pregnant with Rooster, I think, and you sent me shopping with Julie and a wad of cash.  You wanted me to buy a stylish maternity outfit…something I couldn’t afford.

That trip to Dothan really made my afternoon and took my sadness away.

Another thing I’ll never forget is the way you could never sit still!  You had to be up, cleaning something or putting stuff away.

Nowadays, we call that condition “ADHD.”  For you, it was seeing things that needed doing and taking care of business.

It hurt to see you stuck in your recliner the last few years of your life…especially during our final visit.  I could see that you were itching to get up, but your body was failing you.

Mama Dot, if there’s one thing about you that that stands out from the rest, though, I think it was your faith in Jesus Christ as the Savior of the world.

You had a steadfast assurance of God’s promises, and you didn’t hesitate to share with anyone who was within earshot.

Though I know that you are living it up in the mansion the Lord prepared for you, I’m going to be real honest with you.

Things just aren’t going to be same any more.

Where else am I going to go and watch reruns of Lawrence Welk, turned up at full volume because nobody can figure out how to work the remote?

Who’s going to fix veal cutlets and serve up grape juice when we go visit?

Saying goodbye to you is like saying goodbye to a part of my early adulthood, and I don’t feel prepared to do this.

Snippets of memories keep rushing in…

You, announcing that we were going to have a girl when I was pregnant with Chicky, and us believing it because, in our words, “Mama Dot has a direct line to heaven.”

Nine months later, Chicky was born.

You, presenting us with what you announced would be the ONLY baby quilt you would ever make because of the work it took, and Chicky loving on that blanket until it was tattered.  The only remnants left are a few squares.

Memories of you driving…was this your sly way of getting me to pray more?  I think I prayed more during those trips than all of my life combined.

😀

Thank you for your kindness.

Thank you for welcoming me into your family as the first “granddaughter.”

Thank you for loving my children and creating memories that they will carry with them the rest of their lives.

I pray that you are enjoying sweet reunions…

Papa Bernard…

Aunt Lula…

Mary…

…and countless others who have passed before you, for I know there have been many in the 98 years you lived here on earth.

I pray that you will finally give yourself permission to sit down and rest a bit, not because you have to, but because you can.

I want you to enjoy the rewards the Lord is showering upon you…

Rewards for a life well-lived.

I will always love you and look forward to our own reunion one day.

Love,

AuburnChick

Christmas 2012