A Memory and A Gift - #MarvelousMaryLee

 

Today I am celebrating with so many others the retirement of a gifted educator and friend, Mary Lee.

Her footprints on a life of giving, teaching, writing, reading and noticing are too numerous to mention but will be her legacy. She has touched so many lives with her dedication, kindness, and curiosity.

I met Mary Lee so many years ago as we both taught in the same school district, served on many committees and participated in a very special book club. At a better time in education we were part of a teacher book club that met to discuss books and share our own writing. It is difficult to describe the connections we made at a time in education when there was a real focus on the child and what we could do in the classroom to make learning thoughtful and meaningful. Life and teaching were easier then with few distractions and a sharp focus on what was real and promising in educaton. We all grew as part of that group and made lasting friendships. My connections with Mary Lee were memorable and became a part of the fabric of my life.

(To Mary Lee: Do you remember this?)

As we participated in our monthly book club meetings we shared our love of reading and writing. One day, Mary Lee put together this little booklet of a few poems and our thoughts on writing. It still sits prominently on my bookshelf as a reminder that we share a spirit that she so deftly captured in this small collection.

And now Mary Lee is retiring from teaching after 37 years in the classroom. I know with certainty that she will not stop giving, teaching, writing, reading, and noticing and I look forward to hearing about her adventures as she steps forward. We all become better humans from knowing Mary Lee.

My gift to, Mary Lee, is a meager attempt at a poem I wrote a few years ago for the Slice of Life Challenge. I look forward to staying connected and learning from you. I wait, somewhat impatiently, to read more of your writing so we can all feel the beat of your heart.

W-R-I-T-E

Write with wonder
as if you've seen the world anew
or searched deep into those memories
that stay close to your heart.

Reflect on the words you've written 
ponder what you've said (or didn't say)
write the words that resonate 
with clarity and truth.

Inspire and influence
with your carefully chosen words 
rouse the thoughts that speak
of who you are and the world you know.

Tell in the clearest way you can
the parts of you that need to be written
reveal your reality and
impart your deepest sense of knowing.

Entrust your writing to the world
let your words emerge and rise up
impart what you know so others
can feel the beat of your heart.

 
CONGRATULATINS, MARY LEE!

Energy

 This post is for Day 17 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.


I have been nursing a respiratory infection for a week. I've been miserable but will not be complaining here. I know at some point I will be feeling better. But where did my energy go? I haven't felt like doing anything but sitting in my favorite chair in the living room!

However, I needed a few groceries today. So I set out this morning with my list of what I needed. We were out of milk and how could we go on without a gallon of milk in the fridge! My list wasn't long so I entered the store and started collecting what I needed. It wasn't long before my feet started feeling heavy and I would need to finish. I checked off my list and headed home. Oh, but when I got home I still needed to put those groceries away!

Then I realized that I needed to do a load of laundry. So I marched down the steps to the basement, sorted the laundry, put a load in the washer and made my way back upstairs. It wouldn't be long before I needed to switch the clothes from the washer to the drier. So I made another trip downstairs and upstairs and back downstairs and upstairs to bring the load of clothes up because I needed to fold them.

So many other little things needed to get done today. Somehow I managed enough energy to do them - at least most of them. But wait! Tomorrow is Monday and I have a boxing class to go to at the gym. 

We'll see!

Revision

This post is for Day 16 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.

I have been thinking about revision lately.

When I was in the classroom, it was sometimes difficult to get elementary writers to revise. When first graders wrote, it was as though their words were written in concrete. Permanently etched.
Difficult to change or remove. Even more difficult to stretch by adding words and thoughts. 

When third graders wrote, they were open to thinking another way or adding descriptive words to their writing. Using mentor texts helped them see there were other ways to say things. Sharing other's writing helped them to see new ways to approach their writing.

When I worked with fifth graders, they were much more eager to recognize the ways they could improve their writing. They were more playful and interested in trying new words, extending their writing or focusing on smaller moments in their writing.

Is it because writers move from a self-centered approach to a more sophisticated way of thinking about writing? Teachers everywhere are doing outstanding jobs of supporting young writers and move them toward more independent thinking as they write. 

In my own writing, I will always find revising difficult. It's stepping away from the words and reading them as another person would. But, as writers, we are so attached to our words and thoughts.

I posted on March 14 (My Remembering Place) with the intent of continuing to work on the piece over time. On March 15, I made changes and posted the revised version. But I had not stepped very far away from the piece. I need time. I need to give my writing some space to breathe. I need to come back to my writing when the actual words do not mean so much to me. 

I will revisit the post another time in the future. I need distance. I need time. I need to be open to making those revisions that I think can be made.

How do you feel about revision? How do you put yourself in a place where revision is possible?

My Remembering Place - Slightly Revised - A Work in Progress

This post is for Day 15 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.

My mom had a small deck outside the back door of our home with just enough room for a couple of chairs and some potted plants. She would watch the birds and rock to the warm summer breezes or sit out there to read and think. It was her quiet place.

There was a wooden railing that surrounded the deck, and my mom had placed narrow flower boxes all along the top of the railing. They were filled with red, yellow and orange begonias, purple petunias and brightly colored lantana. She always had a few hanging plants that hung above the deck. She was an excellent gardener and loved spending time on her deck. It was her flower place.

We often found her out on the deck watering the flowers or pinching off dried blossoms and leaves. Those flower boxes were treasure chests of beauty. She watched her flowers grow and tended them with care. When I joined her on the deck, we would visit and talk about her day and whatever else found its way into our conversation. It was her happy place.

One year during the early summer months she had some health issues and was admitted into the hospital. It turned out the summer was a series of time in and out of the hospital. With so much time away from home, she wasn't able to enjoy her beautiful flowers. It broke my heart when she talked about wanting to go home. I knew she wanted to just sit on her deck and enjoy her flowers.  

I spent most days with her at the hospital and I felt sad when she talked about her flowers. I promised her that I was caring for them and that they were beautiful. She ached to see them. I was determined to find a way to bring the flowers to her. So I took pictures of each beautiful plant and blossom. I had the pictures printed and put together a collage of her flowers in a clear acrylic frame. I brought the frame to the hospital and placed it on the window ledge next to her bed. 

Those days were tough. She would drift in and out of dementia. She slept a lot but I stayed to be with her. When she was alert she made sure that everyone who walked in her room (nurses, doctors, family and friends) saw her beautiful flowers. She was so proud of them. 

Towards the end of that summer she was moved to hospice and within days she was gone. My heart ached. It was difficult to go through the motions of burying my sweet mother. But there was one thing we did for her that I think would make her smile. We took those pictures from the frame and slipped them under the blanket that covered her in her resting place. I know they are with her and that means everything. I like to think that she is digging in the dirt, tending her flowers and enjoying the beautiful blooms. It is her forever place.

These days, I think she would be proud of my garden. I try to be the gardener she was. I cherish the colorful blooms that make me smile. It is my remembering place.

My Remembering Place

This post is for Day 14 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.

My mom had a small deck just outside the back door of our home with enough room for a couple of chairs. She would often sit out there to read. It was her quiet place.

There was a railing that surrounded the deck and she had placed narrow flower boxes all along the top of the railing. She would fill them every spring with begonias and other flower treasures that she found at the nursery. She also had many hanging plants that hung above the deck. She was a really good gardener. She loved spending time on her deck. It was her flower place.

We would often find her watering the flowers or picking off a dried blossom or leaves. They were her treasures. She delighted in the beautiful colored blossoms. She watched them grow and tended them with care. It was her happy place.

One year during the early summer months she had some health issues and was admitted into the hospital. It turned out the summer was a series of time in and out of the hospital. She wasn't able to enjoy her beautiful flowers. It broke my heart when she talked about wanting to go home. I knew she wanted to just sit on her deck and enjoy her flowers.  

I spent most days with her and I felt sad when she talked about her flowers. I promised her that I was caring for them and that they were beautiful. She ached to see them. I had to find a way to bring the flowers to her. So I took pictures of each beautiful blossom on each bright green plant. I had the pictures developed and put together a collage of her flowers in a clear acrylic frame. I brought them to the hospital and placed them on the window ledge next to her bed. 

Those days were tough. She was in and out of dementia. But when she was alert she made sure that everyone who walked in her room (nurses, doctors, family and friends) saw her beautiful flowers. She was so proud of them. 

Towards the end of the summer she was moved to hospice and within days she was gone. My heart ached. It was difficult to go through the motions of burying my sweet mother. But there was one thing we did for her that I think would make her smile. We took those pictures from the frame and slipped them under the blanket that covered her in the coffin. I know they are with her and that means everything. Wherever she is, I hope she is tending her flowers and enjoying the beautiful blossoms. 

These days, I think she would be proud of my garden. I try to be the gardener she was. I cherish the colorful blooms that make me smile. It is my remembering place.

 

Not Feeling Well

This post is for Day 13 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.


The flu crud has reached our house. I was the last to take it on. I know I will feel better soon but I just want to sleep through the day and night.

Tight breathing
Heavy weight sitting on my chest
Headache that pounds
A voice that is rough and low and scratchy
Coughing that keeps me from sleep

Life on hold
Until meds kick in
And restful sleep comes.
 

Look Closely

This post is for Day 12 of the 2019 Slice of Life Challenge. Thanks to the Two Writing Teachers for bringing this community of writers together to share our writing in the month of March.


I grabbed my spring jacket and stepped out the door eager to look for the signs of spring. Here's a collection of my thoughts as I took in this beautiful day.


Look closely and you will see the early signs of spring.

     a sudden greening of the grass

     spring bulbs reaching for the sun

     trees bursting with buds

     birds darting through the trees

     shadows made by the sun

     neighbors stepping out of their winter caves

     spring is here