This Friday night was so like another Friday night a year ago, that the memories flooded my brain. The difference between then and now flooded my heart.
It was another football game, a year ago, when my younger kids’ birth mom joined us. Katelyn was already with the marching band, but Conner and I arrived in the parking lot right after Annie. I parked my motorcycle in front of her company van and we shared a parking space. From there, we went to the field and watched the game together, chatting and laughing. Continue reading “Friday Night Football and Memories”
My 30th year of teaching has arrived. I know that God holds tomorrow in His hand and I am not guaranteed another day, much less a year or years, but there is still a plan. My plan is that this will be my last year of teaching. As such, it will be full of “lasts.”
I’ve already experienced what I expect to be my last city-wide school staff gathering. As I sat with all the rest, I thought back to my early teaching days, when my dad and I were both teaching in our school system and would see each other at the meetings. He is gone now and it was a sweet memory. Continue reading “The Year of Lasts”
For years, my mom had been talking about wanting to take a class at the John C. Campbell Folk School and she wanted me to go with her. Over a decade ago, we’d attended a summer program for educators at Savannah College of Art and Design and had a blast. We decided to have another mother/daughter experience and go to the folk school this summer. I found places for my kids and Mom found us a house/pet sitter. Mom chose a woodturning class and I chose the writing class.
I didn’t pick a “one word” for myself this year, but one that would have fit is “risk.” I’ve been choosing to step out and do things that don’t feel safe. Choosing to take a writing class with strangers fit “risk” well. I knew I’d be faced with writing prompts with a time limit, followed by sharing with the strangers in my class. Continue reading “John C. Campbell Folk School”
I was honored to spend much of the first morning of Vacation Bible School with a man named “Jack.” He is my friend’s father, a long-time member of our church, and has the same name as my late father. Though I’ve never known Jack well, I know he has served as a school principal. I know he is a beloved father, husband, and grandfather. Similar to my own dad’s dementia, Jack has Alzheimer’s. Continue reading “A Morning With Jack”