Slice of Life #1

Randomness...

Two years?  Really?  Well, here I am accepting the Slice of Life Challenge from the Two Writing Sisters... again.

After ten, I should be in bed... my husband has already been in here once.  So, I will make this first post short!

A Normal Slice of my Sundays:

Upon feet hitting the floor,
stumble to the coffee maker.

Sit in silence
Watching the morning news

Get up, get moving
Leave for church

Grocery store
Every single Sunday

Lunch at either
La Siesta or Camino Real

Home again,
putting groceries in their spot

School work begins...
Until now!

Add to my routine for the month of March
Slicing parts of my days.

Rocking Chair Literacy

Slice of Life Challenge #1... just like life and running, I am a tad bit behind!                                  3.3.13

I am a first year literacy coach, grades 3-6.  This year has been a very revealing and reflective year for me.  Beginning my 19th year of teaching,  when my principal called and asked if I would be interested, I thought about this for about five minutes... then called her back and a agreed to take this on!

Having always been a fifth/sixth grade language arts teacher, I was a little uncomfortable, no~ PETRIFIED to see those third graders coming to my literacy library!  I have my master's degree in reading, but my focus was on adolescent literacy, not diagnostic.  Ask any of my former students, I am PASSIONATE about reading and writing & writing and reading!  I love the challenges that were put forth every day by my previous students: find me a book I will love, I have read most books in the library , how do I make my writing better, etc.  Students who challenge me, cause me to think deeper; I hope I have done the same with them over the years.  

However, I truly don't get why some students struggle with reading!  Now, don't take this the wrong way, please!  I do know there are children who do have learning/reading struggles.  I realize there are holes to be filled.  In a society where books are available through many sources, why is it that children don't read?  Mind-boggling!  

My school is what I would call a fairly affluent school.  For the most part,  the small groups of students I serve on a daily basis are non-readers.  It is really not that they can't read; they just haven't practiced.  I find this heart-breaking!  Why haven't they been turned on to reading?  Who is responsible for this?  Teachers?  The child's first teacher~Parents?  Siblings?  Grand-parents?  Babysitters?  Day Care?  Preschool?  All of the above, beginning with the mom!  

While she is carrying the babe in her womb, why not sit in the comfort of a rocking chair and read to that sweet baby!  The vibrations of the voice have to reach the child... the rhythm of the language... the few minutes alone, away from the hectic daily life... a little joy to end each day... a poem, a chapter of your favorite book, a devotional, a favorite kid's book, whatever is shared with the precious life within is a great way to introduce the love of the written word with this new life the mom is carrying.

I have learned to love those third graders; I knew I would.  We read and share daily celebrating the magic of the written word. We listen to the rhythm of verse.  We laugh and smile, and celebrate small successes daily.  We hug and high five. We struggle and learn~together!  Reading is a community process and activity.  I have come to understand and believe the reading community I am building with my students is much like the initial "rocking chair literacy" introduction these children might have missed.  It brings me pure joy to share this with them! 

I guess time will tell if my hypothesis is correct... or if it really matters.  What  matters is that I can influence these children while I have them... test scores will be tangible evidence that will make the district sing or shout.  What they take from me about my passion for the written word and what leave with me about my lessons from life will be the greatest measure of success for us both.  

Reflections on Running...

Sunshine, blue skies, a fresh breeze... what more could a runner need or want?  Well, it appears heart, mind, and soul are important, too!  

Saturday was my third Women's Half-Marathon.  Three years ago, I was blogging through tears as I wrote about a woman who had gone down within sight of the finish line.  Last year, a new runner friend, Stacey, and I finished this grueling half in 2:37 a PR for us both.  Oh, I had hopes of smashing that time!  However, I knew my training had not gone particularly well over the past summer... heat and humidity had taken its toll.  Still, the organizers promised a flatter, faster course... a runner always hopes for that elusive PR!  

The first three or four miles were great!  My 3:1 interval was working for me.  My pace was smooth, nice and easy.  Mile five found a few of those familiar "friends" aka "hills of Nashville".  My strategy of walking up and running down came to me... So that is just what I did.  From out of no where, I slowly began to ran out of gas!  Intervals changed to 2:30/1:30.  I pulled out my gel to refuel.  That lasted for a little while... then I ran for as long as I could and walked for longer.  That is when I thought, "Do you want to finish?  Yes or No?  You have to decide!"  My mind was fighting with my heart!  This arguing, bargaining, deal-making went on and on.  

As I was walking in the Belmont area, those two still going at it, I past my friend and former running coach and another coach with Fleet Feet's program.  Their cheers caused my heart to take on new life... there for a minute I thought she would win!  My mind began remembering my running mantra: "Goal of every race, finish standing!" Gray matter won!  I decided at that moment I would walk the remaining 6-7 miles... and smile as I cross that finish line!

During my run, I had noticed all the red "Fleet Feet" training singlets walking/running by.  I knew those were first-timers... Fleet Feet of Murfreesboro had a group of lovely ladies who had trained for their first half in those same shirts!  This one particular young woman and I were leap-frogging each other.  Once my strategy had changed to walking, I came upon this woman. If I said she seemed a little down, I would be understating her demeanor.  her posture screamed, "Defeated!" So, I asked if she was okay.  She replied that her knee was hurting.  I told her I had decided to walk it the rest of the way in... she would be welcome to join me if she wanted.  

So, we walked and talked and walked and talked.  As we shared, I realized she might be experiencing the beginning of IT band troubles.  I shared stories of runners who had injuries coming back stronger than ever.  We shared slices of our lives: professional, personal, running and spiritual.  I knew that my "soul" had been the winner... God planned for our paths to cross.

God intended for my pace to slow and for me to take it easy.  He knew this way back during my miserable summer training, during the heat when I cancelled those early morning runs, air heavy, filled with moisture.  I had no idea... my thoughts back then were, "You cannot run in this heat and humidity!  Don't even try!  Maybe tomorrow will be better." Some times the next day's conditions improved, sometimes they didn't.  This is how my summer training went... inconsistent and slow.  I know other runners who ran in the same conditions; His plan for them must have been different because there were many PRs for them!  How blessed I am that my heart and mind had that discussion and my soul won... Blessed by a rookie runner half my age!

God has a simple and beautiful plan for each step we take.  Whether it is at the pace we desire or not... He is in control.  If I had stopped when the doubts began, I would not have finished the race.  I would not have been inspired and encouraged by a young twenty-eight year old beginning runner who was walking through stabbing knee-pain. 

There will be another 13.1 miles to run... 10ks and 5ks. There will be other runners who encourage and encouragers.  I needed Stephanie and her experience, as much as she needed mine.  Our stories are imprinted on each other.  Whether we realize it or not,  those miles  we shared will be remembered and shared with others. I like to think that the path of my life's journey is in the shape of a heart!     

  

God's Precious GIft

I was invited to attend Phase II of Rutherford County's Writers' Academy. What an "ILLUMINATING" experience! Surrounded by amazing writers and teachers... we shared strategies, techniques and life stories. My piece, inspired by the book The Most Important Thing is a continuation about the women in my life.

The most important thing about my step-mom, Janice, is that she is God's precious gift to me.

Janice fills my soul with inspirational glimpses of her "hard-knock" lessons of life.

Her love for my dad was a swiftly flowing river, gently smoothing and reshaping the sharp edges and deep crevices of his hardened soul.

From that blessed day, when Janice and my dad "found love in the K-Mart parking lot", God's grandest plan was being revealed.

No one had an inkling that cancer was invading this most wonderful love story. Janice promised "... in sickness and health, in poverty or wealth, 'til death do us part..."

Promises she kept.

Seven years earlier, God took my gentle and kind mom form this earth. Three years later, my dad gave up his battle with cancer... independent, tough-skinned, stubborn... the characteristics I had learned to respect and cherish... gone.

Janice and Daddy's three year love story was to come to an abrupt halt when the nemesis took him away. However, God blessed me with this precious lady--independent, yet loving; tough-skinned, yet compassionate; stubborn, yet giving.

But the most important thing about my step-mom, Janice, is that she is God's precious gift to me.

PART II: The Women in My Life: My First Friend~My Forever Friend

The most beautiful discovery true friends make is that they can grow separately without growing apart. ~Elisabeth Foley

Short-cuts through the neighbor's tall shrubs to get to her home... a haven of creativity, menagerie of animals, the most beautiful French Provencial furniture, Barbie dolls and board games, spend the nights~long before "sleepovers" were thought of, movies at Mitchell-Neilson, trips on our bikes to Victory's, bags full of candy,riding bikes around and around and around our neighborhood block...

Dressing just alike in third grade, Mrs. Rogers saying we were just like Siamese twins~inseparable, walking home from school, arm-in-arm... with friends, chanting "Lions and Tiger and Bears... oh my!" and "Step on a crack, break your momma's back"...

Sixth grade memories... my cousin in class, carnival at Jackson Heights, ID bracelets, Linebaugh Library's basement children's book-checkout, Moudy's limeades & sandwiches, Sugar & Spice cookies...

High school sorority rush, disappointment, thought I had lost my BFF forever, next summer my rush, sorority parties, dances, fun times...

Just a few priceless memories of growing up with childhood friend.

We grew up together; we grew up separately. If I could hit a replay button for any part of my life... it would be the time lost with this precious childhood friend from 1974 through 1980s. I am blessed to say as adults we have grown closer again. Like in many relationships, things happen and our once closeness grew distant.

What was it that caused this distance to span for almost a decade? What else... a silly boy. As a teacher of middle school age students, whenever "girl problems" rear their ugly heads, it is usually over a member of the opposite sex. Many a "counseling session" over conflicts has resulted in me sharing my "expertise" in this particular area. I share my best advice I wish someone had shared with me... "No boy is EVER worth coming between you and a best friend!"

My past... regrets, grief over the times lost, sadness from the joys of sharing the special moments of first and lasting love, everyday life, births of children, our children growing up together... all are gone. However, they remain weighted within my innermost being. Gratefully, the silence of forgiveness occurred somewhere along the way to maturity. Today, I can write this knowing my first and forever friend is still there for me and I for her.

Our present... the two of us sit together, catch up on the latest in our adult kids' lives, share our heartaches, our joys, our "maturing pains". Our focus is on listening, laughing, and a tear every now and then. We delight in the stories of silliness, trod through the tough times, and walk away carrying a piece of each other's lives... sharing the joy and dividing the pain. Inspiring, encouraging, caring and sharing are the words that resonate when I think of our times together. What a blessing!

The future... no one knows what the next moment may bring for any one of us. This I do know... if ever I need a shoulder to lean on for strength or a hug to celebrate the joys in my life... this woman will forever be there! What a comfort knowing this... my hope is that she feels the same.

Just like when we dressed alike from shoes & socks to ponytails & freckles and every inch of space in between; I believe our souls~intact, our spirits~strengthened, our hearts~identical... as if we were back in third grade.

Thank you, Sheila, for being the first friend of my life!

The Women in My Life

The Women in My Life...

Today was an amazing and, yet, bittersweet day. Amazing: I ran/walked my first half-

marathon! Bittersweet: In view of the finish line paramedics frantically working on a

“sister” run in view of the finish line. To have such a high and a low simultaneously is

quite overwhelming. As I ran toward the finish line, with a sweet friend by my side, I

prayed for this fellow runner and those tending to her. I had just said a prayer for my

friendʼs knee, which was causing her pain. The finish line in sight I ran. We held our

hands up in victory, while a runner was struggling for her life! Something seemed so

wrong! Finisherʼs Medal placed on my neck...bittersweet. Someone was calling my

name. Voices from the side were calling my running buddyʼs name. I ran to the voice

calling my name and practically fell in to her arms. From fatigue, maybe... from

overwhelming emotion that I actually finished, probably...from a broken heart for the

downed runnerʼs son or daughter, husband, mom and dad, sister and brother...oh, yes!

All sorts of thoughts ran tumbled inside of me and have ever since the moment I saw

the paramedics working feverishly. Visions of plastic over her face. Paddles pushing

against her chest. My heart cried out, “God, please let her finish this race!” At this

point, I donʼt know the outcome. All I know, is that the scene has created a hollow spot

in my heart and images in my mind that I never thought I would ever feel or see. Will

writing erase the images...probably not. Will I learn the fate of this woman...maybe.

Will this have an impact on me...oh, yes!

This is what I know...

The women in my life are simply blessings to me. I want to let them any everyone else

know this. I am sure the lady who went down had friends with her, support from family

and friends. I wonder if she has facebook friends with whom she shared the small

moments of her life? I wonder if she was a teacher, nurse, lawyer, doctor? I wonder if

she was a grandmother or so wished to be one? I wonder if she was running with

friends, a precious daughter or daughter-in-law? As I wander through my wonderings...

I think of the women in my life who have made an impact, past and present.

Numerous of the women whose paths have crossed mine. As the letters appear on this

screen...just know, this list could go on forever. And from time to time, I hope to visit this

again and share more.

My mom, a precious angel in heaven. I felt your presence today! I ran by the Elliston

Soda Shoppe. I remember you telling me that was one of your favorite “hangouts”. As I

ran down Broadway towards the Cumberland River, Shavon and I were talking about

our moms... I feel your love, comfort, fears, and encouragement on a daily basis. You

continue to live in my heart; you are my moral compass.

My beautiful sister, Annette. I donʼt see or talk to her near enough! But every time we

talk, via phone, messages, or in person; I am astonished with the accomplishments of

her life. Four “all-boy” boys, ranging in age from 54 to 5; she loves, consoles,

separates, conjoles, referees, and compromises. Always with style and flair! She is

one amazing sister! Annette, you know I love you and always will!

My brother has done many fine things in his life, but the finest: to have found his soul-

mate, my precious sister-in-law, Linda. Linda loves him and Annette and I,

unconditionally; always has and always will! She has been through some tough

obstacles in her life...and has become stronger in her faith because of this. She is the

rock in my brotherʼs life, although sometimes I donʼt think he realizes it. Linda, God

knew what he was doing when he put you and Kenneth together. He gave me a second

sister I love and adore.

God has blessed me with a fine Christian woman as a second-mother. As I typed,

“step-mom”, I thought, “Absolutely not... Janice is my second-mother.” God needed my

momʼs help in heaven, December 20th, 1993. That was the summer of the Oklahoma

bombing where many babies and toddlers lives were ended by the thoughtless and

cruel act of “home-grown” terrorism. God needed my momʼs unselfish love and

compassion in heaven, her work on earth was complete. With many “tries” - all

unsuccessful- my dad finally met Janice. It is true, they found love in the K-Mart parking

lot. To hear her tell of this fortuitous meeting is so sweet, but it is her story to tell, not

mine. My story is this... God took my sweet momma and then my strong dad home to

heaven. In both of their places, he gave me Janice! You see, God is so good; He knew

I would need the kindness and compassion my mom possessed as well as the fortitude

and independent-mindedness of my father. All rolled in one petite precious package

known as Janice. I know God has intentions of allowing her numerous days on this

earth... I am a “needy” second-daughter! Janice and I do have such good times

together! A visit to her Unionville home, watching her Jenny chase my Beau, makes us

laugh and grow to love each other more dearly. Janice, you are Godʼs gift to me! I love

you! My mom would have loved you, too!

Friends, beach-sisters, cousins, aunts, mentors, coaches. former students~ your stories

are yet to come... Today, I want to say from the depths of my soul and heart, with God

as my witness...

Without your imprint on my life, I would be nothing! Todayʼs events has made such as

impact on me... I am so thankful for your presence, your encouragement, your

guidance, your wisdom, your listening ear, your time, your love and so much more!

Your stories are yet to come...

God, thank you for blessing me with the compassionate, strong, independent, sweet,

kind-hearted, loving, gentle women in my life! I am so thankful you have allowed me

another day on this earth and given me the ability to share this with these lovely ladies.

You are so good to me; I deserve so much less. Thank you for you for placing these

women in my life: they encircle me with Your love; You “put me under Your wings”

through them in every, single day! Amen!

I Speak for the Words

Quotes are among my favorite things. They are my guideposts through life; my internal compass. I attempt to speak for the words, which make up quotes, which gives inspiration. The following is an "I Am" poem about one of my favorite things.

I am words of inspiration, wisdom throughout the ages, profound thoughts - true today and tomorrow

I wonder and marvel at those who cherish me

I hear people reading me ever so quietly, loud and triumphantly, or with prayerful reverence

I see sunshiny smiles, faces of content, and tear-brimmed eyes

I want to always be a surprise in the foil wrapper of Dove chocolates

I am words of inspiration, wisdom throughout the ages, profound thoughts - true today and tomorrow

I pretend that everyone in the world hangs on my every syllable

I believe my words are a magic potion able to transform hurts to hopes, defiance to destiny, woes to wisdom

I touch the broken hearts, damaged souls, and ever-wandering, but never lost minds of those who seek and ponder me

I feel richly rewarded when recited as a source of much-needed strength or encouragement

I worry that future generations will not realize my monumental power

I cry when overlooked by the apathetic, who feel nothing; the arrogant, who need nothing

I am words of inspiration, wisdom throughout the ages, profound thoughts - true today and tomorrow

I understand the vast impact I impart to all of humanity

I say silly things, sweet nothings, and thought-provoking ideas

I dream to always be alive, breathing hope and inspiration to those who pursue me

I hope to be magnetized to refrigerators, scribbled on napkins, imprinted within blithe hearts

I am words of inspiration, wisdom throughout the ages, profound thoughts - true today and tomorrow