If I wrote about you, what would you want me to say?  I can only write what I see or experience, completely from my own perspective.  Would you be willing to see yourself through someone else’s eyes, however it might look?  Would you be able to separate anything I said from our friendship, knowing that my intentions were good?

Are you concerned that hanging out with me might result in me writing about you?  I found out from a friend that occasionally he thinks about that.  Or maybe you like my writing enough that you would like to hear what I might say about you and our relationship.  I suppose I could take requests.

I write about my family all of the time without asking them, but I try hard not to say anything that might embarrass them or hurt their feelings.  After all, I have to live with them.  But is that honest?  Do my readers get a true impression of what our lives are really like?  Or am I just creating likable characters that give my readers warm and fuzzy feelings?

I recently attended an author’s workshop where I heard an interesting piece of advice.  Write as though nobody will read it. Well shoot, that would mean I could write anything I was thinking – freedom of speech and all that.  No filters, no concern about possibly losing friends or family over something that was said.  Am I willing to possibly lose people for the sake of  keeping my integrity in terms of my writing? I’m not interested in writing fiction – too much of our lives today revolve around fiction and as a culture we’ve run away from reality.  I want to write about what is real, about how that realness affects people and what we can do to make things better.  That can’t be all bad, unless the truth hurts someone.

Chances are, however,  if I were to write about you, I would tell you things that you either didn’t believe or see in yourself.  I would tell you about the wonderful family you’ve raised or how kind you are to everyone.  I would tell you that you have the potential to do anything you want, no matter your age or situation and to follow your dreams.  I would tell you what an inspiration or encourager you’ve been in my life and the lives of others.  It doesn’t matter how long I’ve known you, if we’re friends it’s because there’s something amazing about you and you bring something special to my life and I hope I bring something special to yours.  So what do you say?  What if I wrote about you?

 

 

Parent/teacher conferences are not my favorite thing.  It’s not that I don’t want to speak to parents, but it is a long evening or two after a long day of teaching.  In my journey as a teacher, I have experienced several different seasons of life.  As a beginning teacher I already had young children and the parents of my students and I were either contemporaries or slightly older. I was unsure of myself as a parent and here I was trying to assess other peoples’ children.  I was more concerned with my curriculum and grades than I was about the child and it showed in the relationships I had with parents.

As I have grown older, the parents of my students have become younger.  Many of the parents I speak to now are the age of my own children and their children the age of my grandchildren.  I have had the opportunity to raise my children and see that despite the storms of life and all things being imperfect that my kids turned out alright.  It’s still important for me to share things like standards, curriculum and assessments with these parents but I’m beginning to see that it’s much more important to reassure young parents that their child is going to be okay.

These are parents who care.  They have their children involved in outside activities, they make sure they do their homework, they make sure to visit with teachers to verify that their children are doing what they are supposed to do.  And as much as they want to be reassured that their children are doing ok, I think they want to be reassured that they’re doing ok as the parent.

Finding something positive to say about someone’s child isn’t hard and it could be just the thing they need to hear.  Sure, their child speaks out a lot but that just means she’s a go getter.  Yes, the child wants to be in charge but that means that have the makings of a leader.  Siblings not getting along?  They’ll grow out of it and be best friends one day.  A “2” on a report card just means your child is still learning.  They’ll get it at their own pace.  Besides, they’re a great kid.

In a culture where everyone is comparing their children and their accomplishments with every other child, it’s important to reassure parents that their child is an individual, a person with unique gifts and a purpose.  Not every child is going to progress at the same pace or excel in all subjects.  If you believe as I do, each child is created as a unique human being, each with skills and passions to make the world a better place.  As a parent, it’s important to get to know your child and help direct them to be kind and respectful, to be hard working and humble.  The rest will come.

I have to admit that this last season of teaching makes parent teacher conference a little less stressful.  Instead of just focusing on  grades, assessments and curriculum, I can spend a little more time focusing on the child and reassuring their parents that they’re going to be just fine.

In the early 1500’s, the artist Michelangelo painted a fresco called The Creation of Adam, depicting God’s creation of Adam, the first man in the book of Genesis.  The art shows the artist’s take on God reaching out with his finger to touch his new creation, the touch representing the relationship between the two.  After all, it does take at least two to create and maintain a relationship.

In education today, much research is pointing to relationships between teachers and students as the main reason students are successful and stay in school.  Professional developments are focused on engagement and learning, giving us all kinds of little tricks and strategies to use in our teaching, but it really all boils down to building those relationships with kids.  And then we shoot ourselves in the foot by putting kids in front of a screen most of the day and night.

As a nation we are concerned about people, especially young people being isolated, lonely, bullied and suicidal.  The suicide rate in this country increased by 24% from 1999-2014.  As of 2018, the number is still climbing and is the highest number ever, the 7th leading cause of death in males and the 14th in females.  Of course I understand that depression, anxiety, mental illness and other things factor into this, but what if there is some kind of correlation between the amount of time people spend with screens as compared to other people?  Just wondering.

In a world where we have to campaign for people to just be kind, doesn’t it make you wonder if we’ve somehow gotten away from dealing with people to the point that we don’t know what kindness is?  After, you don’t have to be kind to technology – you ask, it gives.  It fills in your time, it keeps you occupied, it does things for you, never complains and never asks for anything in return.  Bullying seems to be at an all time high and not only do bullies not care, nobody seems to know how to deal with them because there are no relationships.  Dealing with situations like this takes discussion and debate, it takes the ability to confide in others for advice.  Instead we go to our devices to see what Google says about it.

It all started innocently enough, some cool, space age tool that we could play with and use to make our lives easier.  Little did we know it would take over.  There is research now that states why and how screens are unhealthy for children and yet schools insist on using them more and more in order to be technologically advanced and give kids an advantage educationally.  We are more willing to spend time with kids staring at images on a whiteboard from Kindergarten (me included) than we are at taking time to teach kids how to treat and deal with each other.  Sometimes my kids go weeks at the beginning of school and don’t know each others names yet.

And it’s not just kids of course.  Every adult I know is glued to their cell phone and iPad and laptop.  Again, me included.  And for those of us who are introverts, the phone can be that crutch that keeps me from having to make eye contact.  There are a few schools across the country that are making a concerted effort to teach kids how to greet each other, to shake hands and have conversations.  Why?  Well, as we watch adults today, some in leadership who wouldn’t know how to build relationships and speak to each other using basic kindness and civility if it bit them on the butt, it seems obvious.  We certainly don’t want this trend to continue.  Or maybe we don’t care?

I got the idea for this blog from a picture shared by a colleague who recently attended an technology education conference.  Now, before I sound like I’m bashing tech eduction, I’m not, as I know my colleague is as passionate about his discipline as I am about mine.  And again, as a tool, I think technology can be a great help.  However, it was the backdrop for the session that literally made me sad.  It was a take on The Creation of Adam, only God’s hand was a robot hand.  A cold, unfeeling hand reaching down to touch the human hand of someone.  Perhaps me.  Perhaps you.  Perhaps the children in my classes.

I certainly don’t want to blame technology for all of the disconnect in this world – life is much more complicated than that.  However, I do believe that when we allow technology to be our go to instead of another person, we’re allowing ourselves and our children to miss out on the greatest thing in life – each other.  Sure, I know technology markets itself as a way to connect, but virtually is just not the same as face to face. It’s going to be hard you know – giving up some of our devices on occasion, but our kids and grandkids are only young once.  And while it’s the easy way out to put a device in front of toddler or even an infant when they’re being cranky or demanding, are the possible lasting effects worth it?  Technology is supposed to make things better but is it really?  Are we really looking at the Destruction of Adam rather than the creation of relationships?

Everything is relative, isn’t it?  Like today for instance.  I stopped to pick up the usual donuts on the way to school, coat open, no gloves or hat because it felt so warm this morning.  At close to 40 degrees warmer than it felt yesterday morning, 23 felt outright balmy.  I’ve obviously lived in Nebraska way too long.

The change in the weather was certainly felt by the kids today as their little bodies squirmed in anticipation of being able to be outside today and this weekend.  Getting their attention this morning to assemble for class was an exercise in futility which continued the rest of the day, at least in my classes.  I’m pretty sure it was in every class where I had to ask at least one person “what are you DOing!!” to which they would respond, “I don’t know” in that annoying sing songy way they do.

I understand that is no research to substantiate what I’m about to say, but children are like animals.  They react in a physical way to full moons and weather changes and with the huge surge in temperature, the kids were reacting big time.  Their usual chatter turns to yelling and screaming and their play turns into hurling their bodies in every which direction.  At one point I looked at the playground equipment and it looked like the chaos scene from Marion the Librarian in Music Man, kids hanging upside down, running up and down steps, leaping around acting like bunnies (I can’t make this stuff up), flinging balls just as far as they could fling them, not playing anything in particular, just using their bodies to the nth degree.

And who could blame them.  It’s been sub-zero for days and snowy before that and the kids haven’t been able to be outside.  Stuck inside drawing or reading or playing video games can take its toll on a kid.  Just the thought of running free like a wild animal sent them over the edge this morning.  Unfortunately that also sent them over the edge in the classroom as well.

It’s not all bad you know.  I love it when kids seem to enjoy what we’re doing and it brings out smiles and laughter. The little ones especially tend to get excited about playing music games but on days like this it’s like you’ve turned the volume up to 11 and the excitement turns manic.  They begin doing things you’ve never seen children do before.  Like enter your room on all fours or pull a friend over on the floor and jump over them or run to the risers and jump off of the back.  They’re suddenly banging on the mallets of your barred instruments until they pop off or dropping bells just to see how much noise they can make.  Oh, and note to self, beginning recorders with 3rd graders on a day like today was probably not a smart thing to do.

I understand how they felt.  In my own, quiet way, I relished going out to supervise recess today in the bright sunshine and little wind.  I didn’t have to layer as much and left my scarf and hat inside.  Sunglasses reminded me of spring to come and if it weren’t for that darned snow fence just past the playground, I could have imagined the snow melting and flowers beginning to pop up.  I actually had visions of myself driving the bug with the top down, wind blowing in my hair.  Who knows – it’s supposed to get up to 55 on Sunday.  I may just wear a coat, turn on the heat, put the top down and take advantage of this heat wave.

The phone rang a little after 7:00 p.m. last night, the caller ID a very familiar one.  I picked up the phone to hear a recording that said “tomorrow will be a school closure day for LPS staff”.   There’s almost an immediate relaxing of the muscles, a feeling of impending freedom.  Does that sound a bit overdramatic?  Perhaps, but if your day was as structured as most teachers, you might understand why I and perhaps other teachers feel this way.

It’s not that I didn’t make plans to work.  There’s always work to do.  I slept in a little bit,  threw on some sweats and took time to eat breakfast instead of grabbing a donut on the way to school.   I started when I wanted to, working on a to-do list that has been accumulating for a while now.  All the peripheral things that accumulate on top of the usual lesson planning and teaching.  All the things that you try to fit in when you get home and still try to have a life with your family.

This is a career so regimented that I have to wait to use the bathroom when it’s convenient for everyone else, where I have to keep a watch on the clock every minute of the day for length of lessons and classes, meetings, lunches and duties.  And within this expanse of time, I am expected to engage and challenge children in creative, academic work.  It’s exhausting, and for someone who craves having time to themselves it can become overwhelming, except for the possibility, the carrot at the end of the stick possibility, that there may be a snow day and that breath freedom where I get to arrange the schedule the way I want, get the things done I want and use the bathroom when I want.

It’s stressful work,  mostly on my feet, only sitting for lunch and planning time and where I am constantly evaluating and tweaking.  Weekends are then crammed with all the things you don’t have time for during the week and if you’re an underachiever like myself, you have to spend some time during the weekend at school to prepare for the coming week.  It’s just the nature of the beast.  So a break, for any reason can become a mental health day and on those snow days you really can’t or shouldn’t get out makes it even better.

I understand that these days are for student safety, even the ones just to keep kids out of the cold.  Some people, the ones who are blessed with coats and heat and warm homes and cars, tend to forget that there are a lot of families struggling to have those things and if we have school, some kids are having to walk in sub-zero windchills without what is necessary to keep them safe.  It’s a lot of responsibility for the ones in charge of making those decisions and if we’re lucky they always consider the children first.  The day for us then is just a gift.

I admit that I crave snow days as much as the kids but for entirely different reasons.  It’s not that I don’t believe what I do is important or that there aren’t personal rewards for the work I do, it’s more that there sometimes needs to be a little Drang with the Sturm.  So, there’s two more days of school this week and I can do anything for two days.  Especially if there’s a break at the end.

 

Cold winter days and indoor recess.  A combination that’s sure to bring out the strangest of games and behaviors in kids.  I supervise indoor recess with both 1st and 4th grade after their lunches and there’s never a dull moment.  For my first graders, paper airplanes are the thing.  There are two paper airplane “experts” in the room who take turns making paper airplanes for their friends.  Usually the airplanes stay white but sometimes kids are coloring windows or designs on them or giving them names.  Then while other kids are reading or drawing or playing games, these flying beauties are all over the room.  I’m afraid I started a thing when I asked if I could try one – now I have to try everyones plane.

They’re truly a creative bunch.  I’ve seen boys make fidget spinners out of lego type blocks and watch them spin them dangerously close to quiet girls who are just trying to draw a music picture for me, just to make them crazy.  I’ve watched them race each other using yardsticks and rolling little cars from chairs to the floor.  I’ve watched them find weird places to hide in the room and steal games from each other.  And once in a while you find that there’s a new game, one where everyone is gathered around wanting to either watch or play.  Today that game was Charlie Charlie.

Apparently the way this thing works is that you draw four squares on a piece of paper and write the word “yes” in two of the squares and “no” in the other two.  Then you take two pencils and balance one on top of the other in the shape of a cross.  Then you ask a question like “Charlie Charlie, do you want to play?” and if “Charlie” is in the room, the pencils will move.  Kind of like a poor man’s ouija board.

Some of the kids were wigging out – “we’re not supposed to play that!”,  while others were fascinated.  I had to look it up and apparently it’s a traditional Mexican game.  I’ll have to ask my Mexican friend about this one.  Some believe they’re contacting the spirit of a dead boy names Charlie and others believe they’re conjuring a demon.  Either way, probably not the best way to use recess time.  But leave it to kids to find the weirdest thing that they can possibly play.

So, as a supervisor, what to do?  I’m not a fan of Ouija boards personally and wouldn’t play it if you asked. Oh sure, my mom owned one when I was a kid and we “played” but she gave up when she asked what my grandmother’s middle name was and when the Ouija board spelled out a name, got mad because it wasn’t true – my grandmother didn’t have a middle name.  I’ve found out since then that both of my grandmothers had middle names, but she was convinced otherwise.  My friends and I played it at slumber parties, asking about things like boyfriends and whatnot, but while it was intriguing to think this board was telling us things, it wasn’t.

So I let them play it.  Nothing happened of course – apparently the pencils weren’t balanced just right, but just like other things kids play, this too will fade away and lead to another strange thing for kids to do.  If only the floss and fortnite would disappear as well.

I tried, I really did.  All three of my boys were musical, with our oldest displaying his drumming prowess at two and a half years old, banging out syncopated  rhythms to a recording of West Side Story.  Our middle son, although he is a visual artist, has an incredible ear for music, recognizing music from many different genres, with the ability to discuss these genres in depth.  My youngest was ridiculous, with no fear, as he approaches most things, he picked up just about any instrument he wanted to and played it.  It didn’t matter if he was playing it correctly, it was always musical.  Crazy stuff.  And all three of them could sing.  I just couldn’t get them to sing anywhere.

A a vocal major myself, it was a little frustrating.  Maybe it was BECAUSE I was a singer that they just didn’t want to deal with it.  After all, I remember singing in the car or humming while I was shopping and the boys would say, mom, can’t you stop that?  When they were goofing off singing some Weird Al Yankovic parody or singing something from a Monty Python movie, they would nail it, but I could never get them to sing anything seriously.  So, I gave up.

None of my boys went into music, with the reason being that they saw how much time their dad and I spent doing it and they wanted to have a life.  Can’t say I blame them, but I always felt a little bad about this, like as musical parents, we should have pushed harder.  We should have made them take lessons with the best people, insist they practice.  We just didn’t.  Then I look at our musician friends, and all of their kids are doing music somewhere, usually being obnoxious overachievers (nothing personal), and I would feel like a loser parent for not having pushed hard enough.

In the grand scheme of things, while they were involved in music, each of them to a certain extent, it just wasn’t their thing.  Like most students I have, where I hope to teach them enough to understand, appreciate and participate in it, I know that very few will seek to pursue music as a career of any kind.  My own children are like that, wonderful, kind, productive young men, but I’ve always been a bit disappointed, in a shallow sort of way, that they didn’t opt to stay in music.

So today at church, standing with my youngest son and his wife during the music, I began to hear a familiar voice a couple of seats away.  It wasn’t my husband, although it was close, and as I listened more intently, I realized it was my son, his voice strong and  perfectly on pitch, as he participated in the congregational singing.  For a while I just listened – wow, he was good.  And why shouldn’t he be?  He was brought up in a home where everyone was taught to love music, no matter what kind of music it was.  And while he opted not to major in music, despite his talent, he is the epitome of an educationally well rounded person.  Isn’t that exactly what we hope to produce as teachers?  What more could I ask for? This morning I heard my son singing.

He’s a cute kid, all four feet or so of him with the cutest head of wavy auburn hair you’ve ever seen.  He has an expressive face, bright eyes and likes to talk.  About video games.  One of the side benefits of having a student teacher is that I get the opportunity to spend time listening and talking to some of my students who chronically struggle.  As per usual, this kid had been separated from the rest of the class due to poor choices in behavior, so I took this opportunity to talk with him one on one.

I asked how his long weekend and snow day had gone and he immediately went on this long narrative about playing video games.  I was completely lost after the first 30 seconds, so my responses consisted of a lot of “wow”s, head nodding and “uh huh”s.  However, at one point in the story, without blinking an eye, the 6 year says “that game pisses me off”.  As an adult who rarely if ever says that word, I was slightly taken aback, but the teacher in me kicked in and I said,” hey kiddo, we don’t use that word in school, ok?”  He response of “ok” seemed a little confused, so I asked him where he had heard the word before, and he shared.  Then comes the, well, I’m sorry you’ve had to hear that, and I know adults use it, but it’s not ok to use at school, proceeding then to give him some alternative vocabulary.

Now, this is one bright child and his regular vocabulary is extensive for his age.  He however used that word with the familiarity of an old friend, telling me that he not only hears it a lot but he uses it a lot.  For me personally, this is a little sad because someone has made the choice not to protect this kid.  Maybe I’m old and overreacting, but it seems that adults are allowing kids to see and hear more and more inappropriate things, not understanding the harm it can do to children not ready to process them.  And once they’ve learned or observed them, there’s no taking it back unfortunately.

In the next few minutes however, the subject changed because I noticed he was not as animated at usual and his nose was runny, so I asked how he was feeling, checking his forehead while I did it.  “It doesn’t work that way you know”, talking about checking his temp.  “You have to get one of those flat things you put under your arm and it’s from China and you have to go all the way to China to get it”, all said with the most earnest of faces.  In all seriousness, I responded, “you know, I’m a grandma and grandmas don’t need those things.  I can tell just by touching your forehead”.  He seemed mildly impressed and then decided to watch the class quietly after that, declining to join in and just put his head on the desk.

Within a matter of just a few minutes I watched this kid go from mini adult to the 6 year old he is, and my heart went out to him.  Is he a challenge?  Yes.  Is he still just a little kid?  Yes. And it’s because of that second yes that we can’t afford to give up on him.  Yes, I know things are less difficult when he’s out of my room, but somewhere inside him is a bright little kid looking for someone to talk to, to listen to him and yes, set parameters that he may not think he wants but he so desperately needs.

Later on in the class there was an analogy using a cream filled cookie to illustrate ABA form in music which then became the catalyst to our next discussion on cookies.  “I don’t like cream filled cookies” he said.  “I like cookies with chocolate chips in them and I like eating them in bed.  Everyone should eat cookies in bed”.  He then proceeded to share with me that his dad didn’t like him to do it but his mom didn’t care.  Hmmm….  Anyway, I asked him if he got a lot of crumbs in his sheets and he stopped for a minute and thought deeply.  “I don’t know” he said.  And then he started talking about video games again before it was time for him to go.

I guess all this goes to say is that sometimes, the problem with teaching is that while you’re doing it, especially teaching an academic/activity subject like music, there is very seldom time to get into an in depth discussion with your kids about what is going on in their lives.  Oh sure, I always stop and ask them how their day is going or comment on something I see, but the minute a kid tries to really talk to me, I have to stop them because the next “thing” is getting ready to start.  Perhaps this kid who struggles wouldn’t be struggling quite so hard if someone in his life spent time just talking and listening to him, even when he tells you about a game that pisses him off.

 

I blame it all on Google.  All I have to do if I want to know something is to Google it.  We do it on car trips, during casual conversations, when we want to research each and every little thing under the sun.  In terms of information, it can’t be beat and, as we all know, if it’s on the internet or in the media, it must all be true, right?  And although tech companies have named these little founts of information Siri and Alexa, complete with women’s voices (probably a topic for another blog), the truth is, these are cold hard machines.  They can only spout what is put into them by people.  The information may be accurate or inaccurate, fair and balanced or skewed, backed by quantitative or qualitative evidence, but neither Siri, Alexis or the people who programmed them can read hearts or minds.

When did we, as a culture, decide that we could determine someone else’s thoughts or motives and become judge and jury by how they look or what they wear or where they live, where they go to school or church or what political party they belong to?  When did we decide that we need to place an individual in a locked box of our choosing because of one aspect of their personality or character?  And when did we decide that it was ok to condemn people we don’t know, have never met, have never gotten to know solely based on a cold hard machine and a media that can’t always be trusted?  When did we decide it was ok to HATE others just because they believe or think or live differently than we do?  When did we decide that no one is ever allowed to grow and change to become a better person, constantly reminding them of their past and not allowing them the grace to build a different future?

The problem with this type of behavior or thinking is that it is easy to get sucked up in it. Some get into their corners and comes out swinging.  Others run and hide and hope someone doesn’t  find out what they really think for fear of condemnation, isolation, hatred, and dare I say it, even death threats.  When did we get so holier than thou as a culture that we can choose who to hate and when to hate them and what to hate them for?  I have to admit that there are times when the hate I see and hear weighs me down, making me beyond sad and angry.

It’s hard I know.  There are some really bizarre things happening today, when our leaders are acting like children, everyone seems to be a victim for one reason or another and we’ve polarized everything and everybody.  There is no such thing as compromise as though it’s a sign of weakness if you give in to anything in order to settle something.  I’m not saying there’s no reason to fight for those things you believe in, but it’s better to make some progress rather than come to a complete standstill.  Just like Siri and Alexa, we’ve become cold, hard machines.

The solution is so simple and apparently yet so hard.  It’s all about building relationships.  It’s about getting to know more about a person than their demographics.  It’s finding those things you have in common rather than just those things you disagree with.  It’s discovering that we all love, we all hurt, we all just want to be acknowledged and feel like we make a difference.  But this means letting go of the hate, being brave enough to step outside our self created comfort zones containing only the people who think like us. Isn’t it time to begin getting to know the hearts and minds of other people instead of finding ways to hate them?  Please, if for nothing else, for the sake of the children who are going to have to deal with whatever might be left.

 

 

When I lived in Kentucky and Ohio, the first flakes of snow tended to be slow and gentle. A few flakes would begin and then a few more until finally you had a shower of snowflakes, gracefully landing on everything fairly equally.  In the Great Plains this is simply not the case.  It’s as if God sits up in heaven and says “on your mark, get set… GO!” and all of sudden the snow begins blowing straight across your living room room window from north to south, occasionally making mad swirls as the wind gusts.  There’s nothing the least bit delicate about snow here and only the hardy can deal with it.  After all, this is where I’ve seen people wearing shorts and flip flops, on occasion mowing their lawns while it snows.  I’m not making this stuff up.

It’s that hardiness and no nonsense approach to life that I admire in the people who live here.  You would think that these character traits would make people here detached and unemotional, but it’s the opposite.  There’s a down to earth appreciation for friends and  family, where doing the right thing by them is an automatic and there’s a pride in the longevity of relationships.  Maybe I just wasn’t aware of this in other places I’ve lived, or maybe I wasn’t old enough to really appreciate it.  Regardless, yesterday was one of those times.

Yesterday was wicked cold.  And to make the cold even more fun, the wind decided to crank up a bit.  Nasty stuff.  Anyway, a group of us decided to carpool together to attend the funeral of a friend’s father.  This gentleman had lived a long 92 years, surrounded by his family who sat with him, prayed and sang while he entered heaven.  While I had only met this man once, like those with me, it was the right thing to do to support this good friend and his family dealing with their grief.

There’s nothing like a funeral to get you thinking about life and the things in life that are really important.  Unfortunately my husband wasn’t able to go and so I attended by myself with friends.  These friends have become like family since moving here nearly 19 years ago and while they have known each other for decades, they have included us into their circle.  Sitting there with them, not feeling alone, just made me appreciate them even more.  We’ve worked and traveled together, shared meals together, and celebrated together.  Yep, more like family.

Before the funeral mass, while everyone gathered in the vestibule, an older gentleman walked over to my friend who had lost his father and took him in an emotional embrace.  This wasn’t just anyone, it was my friend’s former music director, still keeping track of him, decades after he had graduated from high school.  In his eighties, with his wife beside him, they made the effort in the nasty cold weather to attend this funeral.  Hardy people. It was the closest I came to crying because I remembered how I felt when my former college band director showed up at my mom’s visitation.  The relationship between a teacher and student can be so powerful, can span decades and continue to inspire those of us who were fortunate to have one of those teachers.  This beautiful couple sat with our group of friends at the funeral, his voice still strong as he sang the hymns, supporting his former student during one of his toughest times.

This same gentleman, after the funeral was over, walked outside to his car in that nasty cold to warm it up so he could drive up to the door to pick up his wife.  Such love and kindness mixed with that midwestern hardiness.  Living a good life for others.  Yes, I learn a lot about life at things like this.

So, when life decides to blow the bitter cold snow sideways into my face, how do I handle it?  Do I go forward, trusting friends and family to be there with me or isolate?  Do I bundle up and face the cold head-on or stay inside where it’s safe and warm ?  Do I keep thinking about myself and my personal comfort or get over myself and think of others?  No, there’s nothing like a funeral to make you think of and observe life.  A life where relationships with kind, hardy people willing to face headlong into a bitter cold, is what life should be about.