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How to Survive
Every time I step out the door I’m thinking about what I need to do to stay alive. It’s not a dominating thought, it’s a comfortably familiar awareness that has been with me ever since my parents moved my family to a remote part of Alaska when I was six years old. Our first home in this new, raw world, was a floathouse. In this case, it was a regular wood-frame house that had been winched aboard a raft made up of massive logs, formerly ancient trees. It was of the “shotgun” type with one room seguing into the next in a straight line from front door to back door.…
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Paranormal Memoir
I was four years old when my dear grandpa “Poody” woke me in the middle of the night by sitting on my bed. My four-year-old mind didn’t wonder what he was doing at my house or why he wasn’t at the hospital. Instead, I listened to what he had to say. We adored each other. When I was at his house, I followed him around while he dug potatoes, painted, or organized his immaculate garage workshop. Every tool was in its place and nuts, bolts, and screws were carefully sorted into jelly and baby food jars, then screwed onto their lids which were nailed into the workshop walls. He would…
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LIGHTEN UP
I’ve spent a lifetime as a mom and teacher taking myself too seriously. I thought it was my job to try to keep kids on the straight and narrow pathway, always wanting them to learn and do the right things. Somewhere along the way, I realized I didn’t have much of a sense of humor. I kept things so serious because I felt I was put here to balance out the ridiculous. To right those who never took a thing seriously. To be ready for a heavy dose of reality or common sense smackdown wherever I saw it lacking. And believe me, there were often those lacking any kind of…
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Mrs. DG, the Legend
The rumors preceded her: mean, short-tempered, rude, and liked to paddle. She was a third-grade teacher in my school and I tried to avoid her at all costs. I didn’t really have contact with her since the classrooms were self-contained and I was in first grade. Running an errand for a teacher, going to the bathroom, or being on the playground when she had playground duty were the only times I glimpsed her. Until that traumatic day. I had been sick the previous days and stayed home. When I went back to school my mother had written a note to keep me in at recess because of the chilly weather.…
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400 Miles from Home
Our best man, Rob, is visiting for a few days this long holiday weekend and it has been one full of reminiscing. Yesterday we went hiking at Giant City State Park and he became overwhelmed with the silence of the forest. He commented on how weird his ears felt with the absence of city noise. Even with the sounds of birds and locusts, the silence was deafening to him. He is used to honking horns and jets overhead. It has been too long since Rob walked in the southern Illinois forests amidst sandstone bluffs. It reminded me of a time about 25 years ago when Rob took us hiking in…
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The Secret to a Happy Marriage
Such power in one tiny word. The secret to “A” happy marriage. That “A” implies I have all the answers, know all the preventatives for broken marriages. How arrogant of me. I only believe I know what has worked for one. The only recipe I can write about is the one which has lasted 35 years in my own home. 35 years this past week. In my mind, we set out on this journey long before marriage. Six years before. Back in the days of constant bliss when we were together and aching when we were apart, I thought we should be together every day of our lives for evermore.…
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Vast Planet, Tiny World
One evening, Jim and I stopped by a table in a local restaurant to speak to the guy who had been our wedding photographer. Mike and I knew each other from my high school days and he and his family had recently begun attending the church my family belonged to. As we chit-chatted, we talked about how we had both graduated from Murray State University in Kentucky. When that happens, there is an understood connection between the people in the conversation and the place. We both obviously shared a love for Murray. While we were trying to figure out if we had been there at the same time, he mentioned…
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It’s Just a Number
It was a BIG birthday this week. 60. It hurts to say it much more than anything else. Since age 40, I’ve had some students say, “What? You are THAT old? You don’t look that old.” Thanks. It has helped to hear that. They swear they didn’t say it for good grades; they really meant it . . . they said. I don’t know what I expected 60 to be. Like every birthday, it doesn’t feel any different. It helps it has come a couple of weeks after retirement. Now there is more time for reminiscing. Wow, 60 birthdays. I think back to the milestones. That photo above is my…
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My Dad, My Adversary
My four-year-old was sitting on a board hooked over the barber’s chair to make him taller. We had recently moved back to southern Illinois from Kentucky and I was reconnecting with people in my hometown. Monk the barber knew everyone and everything going on in the village boasting a population of 2,000. When he realized who I was, he switched the conversation. “How is ole Duck doing?” With nicknames like Monk, Duck, and Butt-cut, I didn’t know where this may be headed. I knew my daddy (Duck, short for Donald Duck) and Monk had some kind of history together from way back, so I wasn’t sure what he wanted to…
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Happy Mother’s Day
I took my mother for granted. I thought she would always be here. Her mother lived to be 97, so why wouldn’t her mother’s daughter? My mother lived 25 years less than my grandmother and her death hit me hard. It hit us all hard. Fifteen years ago tomorrow, Mother’s Day. I lived in a grievous fog and thought depression and sadness were my new normal. Until they weren’t. Two years later I realized the veil had slowly lifted, although I didn’t recognize when. It finally felt good to remember happy times and her ridiculous “Rubyisms” without that gut-wrenching longing for her. This Mother’s Day, I am grateful for a…
