Jumpin' Off the Edge

It all started while drinking a glass of wine with a couple of  friends on my birthday (the end of December). I just finished telling her I ran an entire 5K without walking on Thanksgiving after not having run for almost two years. “You should do the Shamrock Half Marathon with us! It isn’t until March. That gives you plenty of time!” I went home a bit heady from an evening of camaraderie and a good time. Before I knew it, I paid my $100 and was registered for the race. I downloaded Hal Higdon’s Half Marathon Training for a Novice to my phone and I was ready to go. My first run was a piece of cake – only two miles. (The reality of 13.1 miles had yet to hit.) Signing up for the race put me in the next level of runners. Once I was became a serious runner, I knew I needed a new pair of shoes. Little did I know the marathon I would go through finding the right shoes. The first store I went to sold me a nice pair…albeit too small. Soon the toe pain started. I ran through it...

When asked what I want for Christmas I stop and think of the usual requests – Books, music, earrings, and other stuff None of it seems right. I look around our house Expecting to see our tree alight with ornaments collected throughout the years instead, I see a sprig or two of garland. Plans have been made for Christmas Day Cinnamon rolls followed by the opening of presents Shortly after, pack up the car And head to Georgia. Making it seem like it could be any other vacation While you are off doing grown-up things. Even before the wrapping and packing begins Emptiness fills my heart. While at the same time it swells with pride A mother proud of the sacrifice of her son You, staying behind to honor fallen soldiers Spending Christmas without family. I anxiously await the day when you will come home Even if for a short time. For me, Christmas has been postponed. For Christmas for me is not in the tree Nor the presents or trips. It is something altogether different This year ...

My first year of teaching, I taught 7 th – 12 th graders in a behavioral classroom setting. Needless to say, there was quite a bit of negativity on a regular basis. That was the year the Goodwill Cards began. Back then they were called Christmas Compliments. (The name changed when I had a student who was a Jehovah’s Witness.) Each student wrote something positive to every other student in the class and the adults they worked with. My first year I wrote less than 20 cards. I have done the assignment every year since for the last 18 years. This year, I wrote 130 cards. As soon as the assignment is handed out to students, they begin to grumble. How can I say something nice about so-and-so? We have to write them for EVERYONE?! Why do I have to write one for myself? I just smile and tell them they will understand the importance of the assignment when they get their envelope of cards. I know the importance because each year I have students writing to me that they still have their ...

in-vin-ci-ble [in- vin - suh -b uh l] adj. unable to be conquered I detest feeling ‘vincible’ amidst a group of middle schoolers. My smile usually at the ready was hidden behind a façade of confidence as I faked my way through the day. Today, I lost the usually bright, energetic me. The funk pressed down more and more heavily as the day continued. By the afternoon, unwelcome tears were teasing and taunting; ready to show themselves as I let the weight of it all collapse on me. Still mired in the negativity, I knew the only way out is to reflect on my day, find the positive, and remind myself all that I love about teaching. Only seven more school days until Christmas track out. The students remind me of it on a daily basis. We even have a countdown on the board complete with green and red to add to the festive spirit. All year I have known that come the end of the semester, four of my classes would be leaving me for another class as I welcomed in new students. As exciting as i...

Upon first thought, watching a parent age sucks. Unnoticeable at first. A bit of a stoop, some creaking in the knees, whitening of the hair. The doctor’s visits begin, as do the pills One for high blood pressure, another to thin the blood, and a handful of vitamins to top it off. The signs are there, but it is easier to see him as he has always been. My father, a pillar of strength. Until my pillar was knocked off-kilter. A simple surgery and the mortality of my father looked me square in the eye when the drugs took hold of his brain. Amidst his fidgeting and confusion, I realized…AGING SUCKS! And then….enlightenment dawned upon me….AGING IS BEAUTIFUL Wrinkles tell of smiles while silver hair speaks a life of memories. Knees creaky after years of kneeling in prayer, offering up a lap, and climbing up the stairs for one more kiss goodnight. Almost forty-eight years of memories nestled in my heart. Memories of my father. Taking us to church each Sunday Building and fixing ...

Yup! This entry is going to be totally cliché. After all, it is that time of year where we stop and think about what we are thankful for in our lives. So here it is. My list of thankful. 1.    One less kid home for the holidays Sean won’t be coming home for the holidays this year. He has been with me every year at Christmas since 1988. I will miss him dreadfully. However, I am so very thankful that he will be spending the holidays honoring fallen soldiers. I am thankful for the man of repute he has become. Most of all, I am thankful he is not one of the fallen. 2.   Unemployment Tony does not have a typical job down here. A few days a week, he drives a rickshaw for tips only and substitutes whenever he gets the opportunity. While we never know what we can count on for the budget, I know I can count on him to be there for the girls; to clean the house; to get the vacuuming done; and so much more. I cannot even fathom how he could enjoy working inside the...

‘Tis the season. The season when we stop to think about all that we are thankful for before transitioning into the season of giving. I would like to think I am both a thankful and giving person. However, upon taking some time to reflect today, I realized I am not neither as thankful nor as giving as I would like to be. The last six weeks I have been guiding my 8 th grade students through a service learning project in my Research class. The majority of my students are coming to me with stories of great experiences while volunteering their time. Many have spent more time at their community service than the three required hours. I, on the other hand, have done nothing. Some might count the time I spend tutoring my students as community service; I consider it as part of being a good teacher. While I have dropped a few bills into a panhandlers cup and donated to a local charity, that doesn’t warm my heart the way getting involved does. For the last ten years or so, I have been talk...