Christmas - Now and Then

     A friend of mine has me thinking about Christmas, vintage 1960, and the contrast to Christmas 2010.  Forty years makes a big difference.    1960 era Christmas was about going to Church, visits with the relatives, sacred Christmas music and the joy of anticipation.  2010 Christmas seems so artificial in contrast.  For me, personally, Christmas is still about the relatives, the music and the lights.  It’s about the human warmth on cold days and connections among people.  But it seems so much less than it was back then.

     I do miss the Church part.  Back in the day, Christmas at Church was magic. The music was haunting, the colors were rich, the words were poetic, and the connections with the holy were palatable.  I haven’t been to church much in the last 25 years but when I have gone it feels like the music has lost its haunting beauty.  The colors seem more neutral, the church less dark and solemn.  The words are more accessible but they have lost some of their poetry.  I miss that world.

Christmas was only slightly about getting presents back in the day.  For several years I pined for the Angela Cartwright doll on page 412 of the Sears catalog but she never made it to my house,  Truth was , presents were frosting on the cake of Christmas.  My parents scrounged to secure Christmas gifts for all of us but beggars can’t be choosey.  The thing is, it didn’t really matter.  After Mass on Christmas morning, there would be the once a year, sit down breakfast.  Eggs, sausage, toast, and homemade coffee cake - a rare breakfast feast!  And finally, papa would say something along the lines of, “Shall we see if we caught Santa in the chimney?” and that was the cue to assemble in the living room.  We didn’t do stockings but colorful packages would be arranged in piles around the room,  one collection for each person.  Thus would begin an hour or so of oohs and ahhs - each person attacking their own stack but all watching the others at the same time.  The presents were not fancy.  Typically, there was one “big” one for each person - maybe a fishing pole for one of the boys, one year a bicycle for several of us (used and refurbished by Uncle John), one year a bride doll for me, something that was impressive - and then six or seven smaller gifts.  These would include a book, a piece of jewelry maybe for me, some new colored pencils or crayons, a board game or some small toy - all good.  It was also important to open the gifts from siblings and to be effusive in your appreciation for the thoughtfulness of your brother or sister. The air in the small living room was electric and unforgettable.

There are still many wonderful moments associated with Christmas.  These years I choose not to go to Mass but my four family goes out to the coast on Christmas Eve and  acknowledges all for which we have to be grateful.  I play the sacred and the fun Christmas music and I look for the Christmas vibrant colors everywhere.  I fail to take time to find the poetry in Christmas but I can change that.  I am disgusted with the commercial and plastic elements of Christmas 2010.  I hate that the paper is full of ads starting in October and it seems to be only  about getting stuff  I hate that people go into debt trying somehow to buy love or comfort or forgiveness.  That sucks. 

December is such a dark, wet , and cold time.  Christmas can bring warmth and light into the world and for that I am grateful.  I don’t need nor want the big hoopla -- way too much energy and squandered resources for that.  I just want to connect a bit, rest a bit, reflect a bit, and wait for spring’s return.

Middle School Rocks

    Some years back I was the parent of two elementary aged school kids and simultaneously taught in the K-2 OA program at Park Side School.  I loved my days.  I was in my element as a mom in  a family with young kids.  I was also passionate as the first public school teacher that many families would encounter.  I hugged those children on their first day as mom left or I hugged mom as she cried and her kindergartner grew up in an instant.  I lived kids all day.  I celebrated with them as they mastered their ABC's and read their first chapter book.  I spent happy hours planning engaging math lessons,  exciting science stuff, fun PE games and so cool art!  The best part was creating a community.  We - kids, parents, and teachers - studied and played together,  wrote each other notes and drew pictures for each other.  We got frustrated with each other and with ourselves..  Sometimes we stomped our foot and sometimes we held each other as we cried tears of grief or fear.  It was a safe world where we all, kids and adults, learned from each other and took care of each other.

     After close to ten years of primary teaching, I was given an opportunity to return to an earlier double passion  of mine:  the adolescent and school counseling.  Earlier in life I had been a teacher and counselor in a middle school and now I was going back to that role at Brook Haven School.  I had doubts about this role of school counselor because it meant that I would no longer have my sweet Room 28 world.  Instead of interacting with 20 families every day, I  would now be interacting with  over 500 families daily.  How was I doing to feel connected to all these people?  How could I possibly create community here?

     Guess what?  I didn't have to create it.  It was already there.  At BHS, I found a caring and fun group of adults who all enjoyed the middle school kid. These adults liked laughing with 12 year olds.  They liked seeing the potential in an 11 year old and then watching that child mature into a confident high school student.  These adults sometimes behaved like silly middle school kids themselves, playing practical jokes on each other or singing in rock bands together.  And, most importantly, they wanted a safe community in which the kids could  learn, grow, and find their adolescent selves.  Gradually, I came to see that the community was here and I needed to find my place in it.

     About ten years later, I am still thriving at Brook Haven.  My son and daughter have grown up and left their dad and me cleaning our own quiet home.  I spend my days in the company of about 320 kids and their families now.  BHS has expanded its grade levels to include about 25 4th and 5th graders in the REACH program and they have added dimension to our BHS world.   The highlight of my day is often lunchtime.  I am out on the yard every day and always head to the 4/5 yard first.  I love checking in with the youngest of our students just because they give me my little kid fix.  They are so outright affectionate and joyful.  Next I tour over to where many of our 8th graders eat.  I love that part too because they always intrigue me.  What are they wearing today?  Who is visiting with whom?  Who seems isolated or upset today?  How is the kid whose grandmother is in the hospital?  Did that girl pass her science test? Lots of greetings and brief check ins happen in that walk through their chosen lunch spot.  Next I walk on to where my 6th and 7th graders eat lunch.  Typically I find lots of goofiness there and plenty of silly questions (Can we get hair straighteners in the bathroom ,JT?) and I notice the same things that caught my eye in the earlier walk arounds.  The rest of lunch I continue to move, greeting every child by name (how better to demonstrate that I care about who they are?), poking my head into the girls' bathroom (everything okay in here?) and generally assuring myself that all kids on campus are safe.   Sometimes a student will confide in me about a problem they are having or a friend about whom they are worried.  They know I will follow up.  They know I care about their world.  They know they can trust me with their secrets.  They trust me to help them navigate middle school and I take their trust seriously.  I believe I almost always deliver.  

    Middle school can be a tough time for kids and for parents.  Everything is changing for everyone and it’s tough to make friends with all those changes.  Middle school students sometimes seem as open, joyful, and young as the little kid 4th graders.  At other times, their fresh perspective and relatively new eyes reveal wisdom that jaded adults have long left behind.  Just as in the adult world, you will find an occasional bully but steps are taken to both prevent or stop such behaviors when they are reported.  Middle schoolers need community as much as they did as kindergartners.  They need friends to talk to, peers to reflect back their world to them, a culture to call their own, and trusted adults to watch out for them.  That sounds a whole lot like what I find at BHS.

Good night

white bone tired
cold damp dark tired
could fall asleep right now tired
headache tired
achy WTF tired
eyes happy closed tired
go away tired
when is the weekend tired
I don't care tired
jaw rigid tight tense tired
pajama tired
silence tired
neck on a spring tired
and it's only Tuesday
tired

Making Friends With Winter

    Okay, so we aren't to winter yet but the question is already being posed: How do I make friends with winter?  How can I embrace the cold and ice, the grey dampness, the early darkness?  I have never been a fan of winter but it won't go away until it is ready so how to embrace what is?  Well, for one thing, get the right clothes.  I am not just thinking of warm clothes but also, frankly, stylin' clothes.  The cold weather usually has me feeling like a truck driver - bundled and teddy bear-ish, heavy shoes and fly away, electrical hair.  Bleh.  Meg got me into some cool boots that fit well and that helps - out of those truck driver hiking boots and into the "I've got power" boots.  She also has me wearing skirts more (with tights) and that definitely makes me feel less like a truck driver.
    Of course, there is also the natural world - admittedly, the stark beauty of fall and winter can be very persuasive.  I can be held captive by fall's brilliance and then winter's bareness.  The ice and rain make the world even more visually interesting and I can remember to keep my camera with me at all times.  Eyes open is the way to make it through the dark times.
    And November and December have the holiday mood to either bring me down or bring me up.  The plastic commercial stuff - thumbs down.  The cigar stands and traditional music can either add to the ride up or push me off the edge - depending on the mood of the moment.  The cold and rain make the inside warmth and colors more appealing and maybe that's why the whole Jesus's birthday thing was created. I am not really coming up with any new ideas here.  Once again, the bottom line is everything changes.  Bundle up and before you know it, February will crack winter's shell and we will begin to feel spring.  Yahoo!

   

   

  

Lies

lies that were
and a life that is
covered in deceit but not lasting
long that way
roller coaster ups and downs
cracking, breaking, shattering
scattered like shards of bone
clean white and dead
and the life that was
is gone

Change Is Good But It Sucks Too

Ten reasons why change is good:
1)  Change shakes things up and changes the cadence.  You know you are alive.
2) It opens doors and lets in fresh air.  It can warm life up or chill life out.
3) Your world is broadened when things change.  Out of your routines you go.
4) Sometimes change makes you happy.
5)  Change can be invigorating and exciting.
6) New routes can lead to new discoveries.
7)  Change often provides perspective on the past and direction for the future.
8)  Small change adds up.  You can cash it in for bigger things like bills or a better life.
9)  No one ever grew by staying the same.
10)  Change can bring new people into your life.

Ten reasons why change sucks:
1) Hey!  I liked my life just the way it was!  Don't mess with it!
2) Change can be exhausting.  More sleep needed.
3) Change can be frightening.  What now?
4) Sometimes it leaves you feeling empty - for a while.
5) Sometimes it makes you angry.  Why me? or why this? Life is not fair.
6)  Sometimes the new route turns out to be too long or too short or too boring or too hard.
7) Change can cost a fortune - in so many currencies.
8)  If things are good the way they are, change will probably make things less good (at least temporarily).
9)  Change is difficult and sometimes a person just needs to take it easy.
10) When you stop changing, you die.

Caretaker: Part 2

    In the last post, I thought aloud about how enriching and satisfying the role of caretaker can be.  It also occurred to me that my own children have had very little experience in this role.  For one thing, there are only two of them and their age difference was not sufficient enough to make one the caretaker of the other.  And, again, there were only two of them - no little siblings to watch over.  Our friends tended to be couples with kids about the same age or older than ours so our children didn't even get a chance to care for the small children of friends.  Their dad and I were self sufficient and the kids  seldom, I am sure, thought to take care of us.  Sure, they made cards and acknowledged occasions but Michael took care of his chores, I took care of my chores, and the kids pretty much did their handful of obligatory chores and their homework.  Somehow, I doubt they ever thought to take care of us in the way that kids in big families often pitch in as a necessary caretakers for parents or siblings.  My kids didn't even have an abundance of pets.  We had a couple of kitties but these were outside animals who essentially only required food, water, and attention.  In short, they went into young adulthood with few opportunities to experience the role of caretaker.   I wonder, now, how much my grown children have missed by not being able to take care of someone.  I wonder if it is harder for them to ask for help because they don't realize how wonderful it feels to be able to respond to someone who needs you.

The Importance of Being a Caretaker

   I grew up as the oldest daughter in a large family.  I think it is for those two reasons - oldest daughter and being in a large family - that I have always been cozy with the role of caretaker.  As the oldest daughter, I learned early about taking care of younger siblings.  I also learned early on that sometimes we are called to be a caretaker for parents or older siblings.   When my son came on the scene, I was not at all intimidated by the care and feeding a newborn.  Seriously, it felt very familiar to me since having little siblings and being a community babysitter had given me plenty of experience.  I also remember that, as a high schooler, I could see my mother's exhaustion. I could also see the stack of dirty dishes in the kitchen which would be sitting there when she came down to the kitchen to make my dad's breakfast at 5:00 am.  It was not uncommon for me to clean up the kitchen and wash the kitchen floor before going to bed myself.  I wanted to make her morning.  I wanted her to start her day with a happy moment.  Again, as a high schooler, I would - really! - spend Saturday nights baking  a chocolate cake for my older brother, who would arrive home at 10:00 pm after putting in a twelve hour plus day working at the local grocery store.  I was so jazzed to do that, to bake the cake and then to wait up and watch Mannix with him for an hour.  He generally seemed happy to have the cake, the tv program, and the attentive little sister.

     I went on to become an elementary classroom teacher, a mother, and a middle school guidance counselor.  Recently , I found myself reflecting on this role and its value to the individual and to society.  What I realized is that being the caretaker is good for YOU, not just the person of whom you are taking care.  When my mother had a pacemaker implanted a few years ago, she stayed with me for about three weeks.  I took her to the hospital the day of the procedure and then remained in her room with her as long as possible that evening.  The next day I brought her back to my house, and made sure she was a comfortable as could be.  Over the next few days,  I did all those little things to both help her recover and help her be comfortable.  It was surprising how good that felt to ME.  I felt needed, appreciated, stoked that I could make her feel better.  In a way, caretaking is selfish.  Yes, the caretaker does help another person but he or she also is given a gift of sorts.  The caretaker can know they are doing the "right" thing, the thing that makes a difference to other people.  Certainly, this can bring an internal smile to most good people and that internal warmth has got to go somewhere.  How about out into the community?  How about that ripple effect?  How about the caretaker's self satisfaction turns into goodness in the world?  How would THAT be for our society?

Ripples

    So here it was Thursday 5:00 am.  I was out on a brisk early morning walk with two very active, very happy dogs.  As I walked,  I considered the tasks in front of me for the day.  I also noticed the yards, the homes, the sky, the foliage.  My thoughts drifted to Thanksgiving and then to the upcoming weekend and to my kids, my friends, my life.  Happy, happy happy.  Downright perky!  And it was just the top of the day.
    As I was coming into the home stretch, I saw a man approaching us on the sidewalk.  Aware that the dogs were a tad feisty, I  stepped into a driveway to allow the guy to have the sidewalk.  He was maybe thirty years old, lots of dark hair on his head and face, wearing athletic clothes,  with ear buds dangling but not plugged in.  As he approached I greeted him with a perky "Good Morning" and he scowled back, "Can you keep your dogs off of me?".  Mind you, Ellie had bounced up as he walked by but had not touched him.  I replied. "That's what I am trying to do!" and gave Ellie an extra little attention.  What I noticed, though, was the instant deflation I felt, as if someone had just taken away my good morning.
      That downward dive lasted about a block or so as I regrouped.  It occurred to me to wonder what had been going on in that guy's life.  Perhaps his girlfriend kicked him out yesterday or he was hungry or he was pissed because he wasn't a morning person and he didn't want to be out taking a walk at this hour.  It also occurred to me that now I COULD go home and be cranky with Michael or, if I had little kids at home, scowl a bit at them because my good morning had been seized away.  I do believe that I have a choice about these sorts of things, though.  I refused to get caught in the ripples of that dude's cranky morning.  But someone else might have been carried away by his cranky ripples and that's the way negative stuff spreads out in the world.  I recovered within a block but someone else might have taken his scowl and moved it further along in the world.  I would rather create ripples of smiles and cheerfulness.  Life is just better that way.  Agree or disagree?

Winners!

    Like a bunch of other people in the greater Bay area, I have not been a faithful  Giant baseball fan for years and years and years.  But because I am married to a guy who pays attention to the Giants, I have been made aware of their accomplishments (or lack of same) for years.  Again, like so many others, I started paying serious attention in August when things started looking up for the Giants.  As the season began closing down, I became more familiar with individual players and their stories.  And then I got hooked.
    I got hooked on their stories.  I got hooked on their humility. I felt their determination.  I got hooked on their teamwork.  NO one is the star.  Everyone is the team.  There is something wonderfully delicious about being a part of something much bigger than you are.  Those players might inspire the rest of us.   Embrace something bigger than you are.  Become part of a team that won't stop believing.  Be a misfit.  Be a winner.

    I