Life cruises along at such a wonderful clip, and then, just one little thing causes memories to spring to life. The monsoon rainstorms we’re experiencing here at Winterpast are very similar to widowhood. One moment the sun is shining and birds are singing. The next minute, it’s dime hail and 5″ of rain in two hours. Such is life.
You know what they say. If it’s not ants its fleas. Just heard that one this morning. That will be a staple in my first grade class, for sure. I may even make a bulletin board to help us remember, life has plenty of ups, but the downs are here to stay.
The college class is a big down-ER at the moment. Those of you from the 70’s remember that phrase. My final assignment rests at 29 pages of little columns and rows filled with information. It’s a grid of grief. The original template was three pages of questions and five columns of which to place our answers. Rather like the Who? What? When? Where? Why? game we played when I was a beginning writer in 1st grade. I felt trapped in a sea of repeated nonsense that has no relevance to my life as a teacher.
The assignment even involved script writing in which I had to write fictional dialog for an unpleasant meeting with parents. After creating the problem in my head, I needed to resolve the issue and then create a written visual of how it played out. I thought my skull was going to crack open and allow my brain to run away and hide. It was all something, I’m happy to say, I’ll never do again.
Today, I’m inserting random quotes and citations, and create the final reference page. The instructions to this assignment were almost invisible. If I totally missed the target, I’m afraid it’s a bullseye that wasn’t meant to be hit. Funny, I aimed my arrow carefully, but it only hit the A-. I have a very real career that needs my attention and life goes one.
I did find out that, of 18 students, I’m at the bottom of the barrel in my class with a grade of 92.7. Well, does this tell you something? It tells me lots and lots, but today’s blog has a different focus.
Through the summer days of the Zephyr Winds, my studio remains a bit of a mess. The gardens are pristine. The garage glistens. The RV barn is neat and tidy. Winterpast is sparkling. Everything is right as rain until you get to my studio. It is my She-Shed on steroids. It’s there that hides the little slob inside me.
I’ve been searching through everything to find bits and pieces of my teaching life. Little things for Room 56 to cozy it up for me. I decided to buy a brand new stapler for my classroom. Take note of the picture above. This is the most wonderful brand of stapler. One tiny little tap and your stapling is done, even if your document is 29 pages. I know this from my Bottom of the Barrel 92.9% college experience. The final count will be 30 pages including references.
VST was a brilliant man, but a man he was. He had the need to mark everything in his office to ensure everyone (me) knew these were HIS possessions, not to be taken anywhere. It was annoying. I think he even marked the television. He marked scissors and his hole punch. Everything was marked, and not neatly either. Now, if you are going to mark something, please do it neatly.
I was in a drawer the other day, boxing up staples and paper clips. Rulers and tape. The box was filing up when I found an extra stapler. It was just the item for which I’d been searching. As I tossed it in the box, it fell to the other side and it was then, my eyes started leaking. It was his very private and fully marked stapler. I cried for a little while clutching the stapler to my cheek, as if I could absorb the last bit of him through writing on the side of a stapler.
My widow’s journey is full of crazy little experiences like that. For a long time I had a drawer packed with his things. The things we would take if we could meet for one more weekend in Hawaii. The weekend we could be sure to have a proper “Good Bye”, not the hideous one we were given in which cancer won the battle. No sense keeping such a drawer, whatsoever. But, guard it I did, until I could let him go. It’s a process, you know. They leave you one thing at a time, on each widow’s time line.
Well, this stapler is more precious to me than just about anything I own. It sits in my studio and isn’t allowed to leave the room. It’s mine to look at and hold when I need to. Silly. I think I have three more here and a new one for school. This one is now mine, even though the name says otherwise. I’ll watch over it, VST. No one touches the stapler.
Today is a busy day with the end of my coed summer, classroom preparations, my last Bible study with the best girlfriends in the world, AND, a meeting with the principal. I’m already in trouble, but that story will wait for another day. This day must begin. Please pray for me as my new world unfolds.
Whatever you do today, don’t get in trouble. Just follow the rules. Hold hands if you cross the street and, for safety’s sake, use the crosswalk. Rules are there for a reason, even if you don’t find them necessary. It’s easier if we all just stay in our own lanes. 1. I will not get in trouble anymore. 2. I will not get in trouble anymore. 3. I will not get in trouble anymore………………
More tomorrow.