In Remembrance of My Beautiful Nana

   

     My beautiful, classy and loving grandmother, Marianna Groves Naylor passed on May 12, 2015.When my mom asked me to write something down about Nana to be read at her funeral, I hesitated, not because I didn’t want to contribute but because I feared that my words might fall short in their attempt to pay homage to such a remarkable lady. So I decided to do what any self respecting coward would do, steal some wise words from someone else.

     One of my favorite writers and poets is Ralph Waldo Emerson. What a name, huh? That poor kid didn’t stand a chance and no doubt had to learn how to fight by the time he got to middle school. However, the unfortunate Ralph Waldo managed to string together a few lovely little lines about success that I think describe my beautiful Nana quite well.

     Emerson writes: “To laugh often and much; To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children; To earn the appreciation of honest critics… To appreciate beauty, to find the best in others; To leave the world a bit better, whether by a healthy child or a garden patch… To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

     Nana was the designated worrier in our family, so much so that I use to joke with her that I didn’t have to worry about anything because I knew she already had it covered. I think my Aunt Pam might be assuming the DW (designated worrier) role now. While I found it reassuring that Nana was worrying over the details, I think I loved her best when she laughed. Nana laughed a lot at those family reunions at Myrtle Beach.  What I remember most about them was how much Nana enjoyed them. How happy she was to swim in the ocean and how hard she laughed at her sister Carolyn’s and her brother in law Fred’s animated jokes.

     I remember going to her house as a kid and I was always greeted in the same way. “Oh, Laurie!” Like she was surprised, excited and thrilled all at the same time. Family mattered to Nana and she dropped anything to chat with me on her back porch, make me a sandwich or give me a hug.

     Nana’s selflessness wasn’t reserved just for us. Billy was Nana’s stepson from her second marriage. He was nonverbal and required a great deal of care when he was home during summer visits from school. I remember as a kid, asking Nana how she could take care of Billy as her own. She was wiping his face and feeding him one day when I carelessly asked, “Why do you have to do it Nana? He’s not even yours?” She stopped what she was doing, looked me in the eye and said “Laurie, he was Lois’s son and she is gone, so I have to take care of him. If something had happened to me, I would want someone to take care of my girls. Nana continued to visit Billy until he passed making certain that he had everything that he needed and taking him out regularly for his favorite treat, ice cream.

     I wasn’t surprised when Mom told me that nurses, aids, doctors and staff alike filed in when Nana was close to the end. Even her manicurist came to say goodbye.

     “To leave the world a bit better…”
     “ To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived. This is to have succeeded.”

     So Nana if you manage to find Waldo up there in heaven, tell him that you’ve got this success thing down. The proof lies in all of those loved ones you left behind. We are each a little bit better off just for knowing you.

I Choose You, Again

      Sometimes in life when you have been married for what seems like the better part of your existence it pays to take a step back and reexamine where you have been, where you are and where you are going. Michael and I have recently found ourselves in that very place.

      I am a bit of a workaholic and he is a sweet, laid back man that would rather have a root canal than talk about his feelings. That is until recently. As a couple we found ourselves in the land of mediocrity, of just good enough, of "I guess this will do." That sense of OKness as I call it lulled us into a bit of a rut. Fortunately, we were somehow able to fight our way out and redefine what was once and has become yet again, a truly beautiful relationship.

      The first step of working our way out of the rut was redefining our priorities. We took a good hard look at what we value, what are goals are and whether or not our actions and our daily routines reflected those beliefs. In my case, I am sorry to say they did not. So I did a thorough overhaul on my schedule to better suit my priorities. I have struggled with this before and continued to back slide until this summer. I think I may have finally got it right. (Raps loudly on wood.) Following his lead, I made my husband and our relationship the priority and that has made all the difference.

      When someone loves you completely and unconditionally it drastically changes the way you respond to them. When they make you the priority, it makes you want to do the exact same thing. It opens up a whole new world of what a marriage could be.

      Now this new outlook has created a bit of confusion for our children who look as us through the eyes of adolescence and wonder out loud what in the world is wrong with us and why we act so weird. There are the inevitable sounds of "Ew gross" when we hug or kiss in front of them and the somewhat less charming "Get a room, geez" from our delightful 18 year old. You see our kids have always been our top priority and now that the emphasis has shifted to our relationship they have a little adapting to do, and that's ok, because the best thing any parent can do for their kids is model how to be in a loving, stable relationship. We have both been guilty of letting other things, mainly life, come between us and now we are more committed than ever at correcting that obvious fault, whether the kids like it or not.

      So in that vein, this week my random act of kindness took the form of a long overdue love letter to my one and only. It is my way of recommitting myself to him for another 22+ years or so. Here's a few of my corny lines:

      "I adore and love you but I realize now that these are sentiments I do not share with you often enough. So this is my feeble attempt at showing you my heart and all those places in it that I feel safer having hidden.

      In this marriage you have become my strength, my joy and my source of inspiration. You are my rock, my safe place to fall and my security in an otherwise shaky and ridiculous world.

      When I am in your arms I feel completely and totally loved, accepted and fulfilled. You are always in my corner and the battles I fight are no longer my battles but our battles. Through your hard work, patience and dedication, you have taken our relationship to another level, one that I never would have dreamed possible. Thanks for not giving up, for never quitting and for working so hard. Thanks for your eternal patience, kindness and relentless love, even when I was anything but lovable. I want to be someone worthy of the kind of devotion and commitment that you have so selflessly shown. Most of all, I want to love you as completely, honestly and deeply as you have me.

      So from this point forward, I give you nothing less than my whole heart and when my heart deceives me I give you my commitment and dedication. I choose you now and during those tough and sometimes ugly times, I choose you again. During sad and dark days, I choose you. During pain and defeat, I choose you. During joy, happiness and delight, I choose you. For life's adventures both big and small, I choose you. As my husband, my completion, my soul mate, I choose you and for the rest of my life, I choose to be your wife and to love you, always."

      I am thankful for love in my life and for the ability to choose it everyday!

Laurie

                                                   

Take Care of One Another

      The other day we were visiting family in a different city and my husband, my son and I made a trip to a local department store. We were chatting it up as we walked through the parking lot, lost in our own little world, discussing what we needed to buy and rambling on about our trip. We hardly noticed the old man on the ground in the parking lot next to his car parked directly in front of the store. I caught movement out of the corner of my eye and saw what I thought was a man bending down to retrieve something he had dropped. I continued on into the store when something made me turn around and look again. This time I was certain, the old man wasn't just trying to get something, he was trying to get up. I called Michael over and told him that I thought the old man was in trouble. Michael ran out the door and to his side. They spoke and Michael picked him up as easily as if he were a sack of potatoes and helped him into his car. Michael smiled his award winning smile and jogged back inside. "Yep," he said, "he was stuck. He tried to pick up something he dropped and fell. He just couldn't get back up on his own. Good thing you sent me over there." Then, just like that, Michael was over looking at swim trunks. Crisis averted.

      Then that same afternoon, we caught an early movie. As soon as the movie ended, I made a quick detour to the ladies room. When I returned, I found Michael right smack in the middle of a heated argument between a young girl (probably twenty something) and an older lady (70ish I'd say). Apparently, the old lady had kicked the girl's seat because she got out her cell phone near the end of the movie. She must have smacked it pretty hard too, given the red face the young lady was wearing. They were knee deep in their war of words when the men with the ladies started to exchange words and there was Michael directly between them, both arms out telling them to calm down. Michael quietly told the gentlemen that a fight between the young man and the elderly one just wasn't going to happen and they backed apart, thank goodness. That didn't slow down the women though, both refused to yield. Michael stayed planted between them until they decided that they had enough and moved on. Afterwards I grabbed Michael and asked him why on earth he decided to get involved. He said, "There was no way I was going to let that young girl hit that old lady. She could have really hurt her." To this I responded, "But why was it your problem?" "It wasn't," he said. "It just wasn't right and nobody else was stopping it, so I did." Then in typical Michael style, not another word was said about it. That was that. Crisis averted.

      Now I should mention that there were other people, lots of other people, in that department store parking lot that day that walked right past that man on the ground and there were dozens at the movie theater including a rather nervous looking theater manager that dismissed the event as none of their business. I couldn't help but wonder what might have happened to those people had Michael chosen not to get involved. For that matter, what if we all just stopped caring? What if everyone decided that it was someone else's problem? It is easier and probably safer at times not to get involved but does that make it right?

      Easter is a time of sacrifice and love. Perhaps the best way to honor that sentiment is to live it, everyday, the best way we can. Love freely, help out when we can, and take care of one another. It sounds so simple but it can have a profound effect on your life and the lives of those around you. 

Happy Easter to all my peeps!  :)

Laurie

      

A Love Story

      Writing for me is a bit like therapy. Sometimes my brain is in overload. There is almost too much to take in, too much to do, too much to consider and way too much to sort out. Writing provides me with a sort of brain drain, if you will. It acts like a release valve that alleviates the pressure. This week was one of those weeks that I needed something to sooth the soul. So I write.

      Our dear friend, Dale Boyd, whom I wrote about in one of my very first blog posts, Week One, Victim One http://loveripples.blogspot.com/2013/01/so-hubby-and-i-have-decided-to-set-goal.html lost his beloved wife, Connie, on Friday to cancer.

      My heart aches for Dale. Losing your spouse must be a lot like losing a part of yourself, only worse. I cannot possibly imagine his pain and grief. I cannot possibly imagine what strength it has taken to endure the years of this relentless disease. I do know that what he and Connie shared was a special and deep bond that few people will ever know in this lifetime. Dale loved his wife deeply. He was completely devoted to her in every possible way. When he spoke of her he used words like "darling," "Angel" and "my wonderful wife." Most men complain about their women at least every once in awhile but not Dale. In the four years that I have known him, I have never heard him say a single bad thing about Connie and that really stood out to me. It speaks volumes about his loyalty and commitment.

      In a world where everything is disposable, trash, animals, relationships and even people, Dale's attention and devotion to Connie stood out in stark contrast. When Connie was first diagnosed with breast cancer, Dale told her to make a bucket list. They set about checking items off it. She beat cancer the first time and it looked as though her life and his might return to some normalcy. Unfortunately that peace was not meant to last for long and after only about a year of her retirement, the monster was back.

      They were both ridiculously strong through the whole ordeal. Connie moved home for awhile but then made the very selfless decision to move back to eastern carolina when it looked like the cancer was here to stay in order to put Dale closer to his family and friends. Connie was setting things in order and her top priority was Dale. She wanted him to have a support system after she was gone. That speaks volumes to her character and it certainly comes as no surprise. To have someone, anyone, love you as much as Dale did Connie, you have to have done something right with the life that you were given. My guess is that Connie did a whole lot of things right. She must have been a beautiful person inside and out.

      Michael and I never got the opportunity to know Connie well. We have really only known Dale for about four years. We met him when he starting working at our school. We first met Connie about the same time. She was teaching Creative Writing at the high school and our daughter Maddie was in her class. By the time we got to know and love Dale, Connie was already ill again. Cancer kept that friendship at bay. I am saddened by that. I would have really liked the chance to get to know her.

      To honor Connie, Michael and I are determined to do what she wished, take care of Dale and her sweet little dog Bella. As far as we are concerned our family has just grown by two.

      Dale and Connie's was a love story that needs to be cherished, honored and remembered. It serves as a wonderful example of selflessness, kindness and devotion.

      I pray that Connie may finally rest. No more pain. No more hurt. No more monsters.

P.S. One of Connie's favorite organizations was http://www.stompthemonsternc.org if you would like to make a donation in her name.

Laurie

The Power of the Pack

      I have always loved dogs. For as long as I can remember, they have been a part of my family. Dogs are loving, trusting, forgiving and kind. They seem to keep no record of wrong doing and have a wonderful ability to live in the moment.

      When we first got married we got a little lhasa apso that had a serious case of separation anxiety. When we left for work he would lose it and go into destroyer mode. Now he was only about 15 pounds but that dog could do some damage, like chewing halfway through a 2x4! It wasn't pretty. Later we discovered that Bandit did so much better with another more stable dog around. They do something similar with thoroughbred race horses. To say that many of these beautiful creatures are high strung would be an understatement, so to calm them down they often have another horse with them. There is something wonderfully secure about being part of a good group or a pack.

      A couple of weeks ago we kept our friends delightful little dog. She is nothing short of a ball of love and one of the most wonderful little canines I have ever met. Her name is Bella. Bella's Daddy said that she likes to get up early, like 4:00am early and the first night we kept Bella that is exactly what she did. Michael got up with her and then slept on the couch for the remainder of the morning until the rest of the house awoke. The second night an interesting thing happened, Bella slept in until the alarm went off. It was as if she realized that the other dogs, we have two, didn't get up at 4:00. The pack, dog and human alike, slept in, so from that point on so did Bella. Behold the power of the pack!

      I often see that same mentality among my middle school students. Sometimes though, the packs are not so benign. The worst seem to be of the female variety. The boys fight it out and it is over, the girls can hold a grudge until they turn 90, longer if their memories remain in tact. Most of the middle school packs are owned and operated by a singular bully who brutally enforces the rules through intimidation and slander. Technology unfortunately has aided them tremendously as it allows them the ability to stir the pot from a distance and under the protection of anonymity.

      Bullies are usually motivated by one of two things, pain or anger. Some are insecure. Some want nothing more than for someone else, anyone else to hurt as much as they do. Some derive a power fix from it that fills the space that says they aren't worthy enough. Some have no control over what is going on in their lives at home so they desperately attempt to control whatever they can outside of that space. Some are filling voids deep within their souls that no amount of inflicted pain or hurt can satisfy. Some are just mean because that is all they have ever seen, that is all that has ever been modeled to them. All are cowards.

      What I tell the students that find themselves a target of such aggression is that this has nothing to do with them, there is nothing wrong with them. There is something very wrong with the person that is doing the bullying, not them. Then we discuss ways to make them less of a target and what to do if that doesn't work. We level the playing field with our targeted kids by giving them the ability to report a bully without giving their names and every case gets investigated. Kids always think that if they tell it will get worse but in my experience if handled correctly by the adults, that is not the case. It can and does get better. The trick is to expose what the bully is doing and have everyone, parents, teachers, students, etc. on the same page. Bullies like to work in the dark, so the best way to combat them is to put the spotlight on them. It also helps if you can get them emerged in a larger, more benign pack.

      Just like with dogs the pack sets the tone and if you are in a school that tolerates bad behavior, bad packs will dominate. However, the reverse is also true. If you are in a school where most of the kids are great kids and teachers, administrators and counsellors support students that have been targeted while weeding out and attempting to rehabilitate the offenders, it is very difficult for a bully or a bad pack to survive longterm. Most of the kids in a bully led pack don't really want to be there and will desert him/her if given a way out.

      It is interesting to me that schools can be so drastically different in culture. Some schools are the bad pack schools. Bad behavior may not be openly tolerated but the bar for what is expected is not held very high and bad packs are allowed to rule. In most good pack schools the bar is held extremely high but not to the point that what is asked of the kids is unobtainable. The result is a good overall pack that can straighten out the occasional bad apple. It is really amazing how a good school culture can absorb and transform a troubled new student. A difficult kid in a stable pack has a chance but a good kid in a corrupt pack usually does not. The transformations, either way, almost always occur in a couple of weeks. Occasionally we will encounter a new child that has so many scars or wounds that the process takes a little longer, but the good news is that there are very few that cannot be reached in a well discipline, caring environment. We need more schools that have surroundings conducive and supportive of the good packs, but even more important is the need for more strong, stable, child centered packs at home where they feel loved unconditionally and get the attention and time they need to develop strong self esteem. Just like our canine family members, humans need wonderful support systems to truly thrive and feel secure. The power of the pack!

      Have a great week!

      Laurie

Finding the Eagles

      The winter olympics came to a close last week in Sochi. One of my all time favorite events is the Alpine Skiing Competition and in particular the downhill. It is insane! I find it absolutely fascinating! Folks flying down a hill at a rate of 60mph with nothing between them and that nearby tree but some little ol' helmet.

      These daredevils perform their feats for the chance to take their place on that famous platform and claim that gloriously shiny token that declares them among the best in the world. I love seeing the expressions on the faces of their families and coaches when they win a medal.  It is obvious that it is not just the olympian's dream but their dream too. I can't help but wonder what gave that olympic dream wings. Was it the sole idea of the competitor or was their talent unearthed and nurtured by someone that happened to recognize that individual's amazing potential?

      You probably remember the story of the baby eaglet that was raised with a bunch of chickens. It seems that the farmer stumbled across a large bird's egg one day that had apparently fallen from a nearby nest. The egg appeared undamaged so the farmer, unable to reach the nest that it fell from and  not wanting to leave it out in the open where the baby would surely perish, took the egg home and put it in his chicken coop. When that egg hatched a beautiful baby eaglet emerged.

      Now that eaglet was stronger, bigger and way more majestic than those average farm yard fowl with which he was raised, but despite those obvious differences he was convinced that he was a chicken, so he acted like one. He picked and scratched in the yard. He even tried to cluck like a hen but his best efforts to conform were not enough. He often found himself gazing at the beautiful creatures that he saw soaring effortlessly in the air above him and something deep inside of him longed to join them. Still he did not take to the skies because he believed he was incapable of such flight. He believed he was a chicken and that limited mentality kept that powerful beast grounded.

      Then one day the farmer took that eagle high up on a cliff to release him. At first the young eagle just stood there, unsure of what to do next. Then from out of nowhere came another beautiful bird gliding on the wind, it's impressive wing span casting a shadow on the farmer and the eaglet below. That was all the young bird needed. He stretched out his enormous wings for the very first time and joined his brother in flight. Without the farmer that eagle might have lived his whole life never realizing his true capabilities. What a waste that would have been! It would be inherently wrong for that wondrous creature to live and die as a chicken without ever once soaring effortlessly across a wide open sky, doing that which he was made to do.

      As I gaze over the faces in my classroom I can't help but wonder what they will do with what they have been given. There are many days that we stumble across a talent buried so deep they never knew it was there. My favorite one will always be the day that I put a somewhat artistically challenged individual on the pottery wheel. He did not want to go. It took some persistent persuading. Art just wasn't his thing. No exaggeration, this one struggled with stick figures. So when he finally decided to give the wheel a try, I'm not going to lie, I was a little scared.

      I carefully gave him directions on how to throw a simple pot, followed by a complete demonstration, then I said a short prayer and walked away. When I returned only a few minutes later, much to my dismay, this child had thrown a beautifully fashioned pot. I asked him how he did it and he responded with a grunt and a shrug of the shoulders. I figured it had to be a fluke or beginners luck so I got him another ball of clay and said "Show me." He responded with some brief but expertly placed hand motions that resulted in yet another marvelous piece of pottery, obviously not a fluke! "Have you ever done this before?" I asked. "Nope," he said. I grinned and said, "Well my dear boy, I believe we just found your artistic gift!"

      Granted, there are no olympic events for pottery but this was one major win for this little guy. Suddenly he was an all star in art class and my new pottery assistant. My point is, that here was this natural talent hidden deep down that he may have never known about had he not been convinced to try.

      My husband coached track a few years back. He is the PE teacher so he is always keeping an eye out for athletic talent to recruit for one of the many teams he coaches. One day in gym class he noticed an awkward sixth grade girl running some laps. He immediately took note of what appeared to be an obvious natural stride. Now this child was not known for her athletic ability. She was an intellectual, not a jock. When Michael spoke to her mother about allowing her to participate in the national Hershey Track competition her mother laughed and asked if he was sure that he had the right girl. "My daughter is awkward and clumsy," she said, but Michael finally persuaded her to allow her child to compete. And compete she did! This girl ran all the way to a state championship! Now she is running for Georgia Tech on a track scholarship. There is no doubt in my mind that this little eaglet believed she was a chicken but she was wrong, she had the wings of an eagle.

 

      As a teacher I am a lifelong learner. I pray that my children and those I have taught will follow my example because there is always more to learn, more talent to discover and more eagles to be found.

Laurie

Brick by Brick

      Belief and faith are two totally different things. I believe in God, always have, always will, but faith, now that's a different matter entirely. Faith runs deeper. Faith involves unflinching trust. Faith does not come to us in its final form. It is a slow and tedious process. Rock solid faith is built one single, solitary brick at a time.

      I guess for me the first stone was put in place by Sister St. Monica at St. Peter's Catholic School. As an impressionable first grader I accepted her God as easily as I accepted her explanation of the color blue. It just was.

      At thirteen I was confirmed at the United Methodist Church in Piedmont, WV by Reverend Sawyers. He was a good man of great passion and conviction. His faith was pure and simple. I wanted what he had. I wanted to believe that deeply. Another brick slid into place.

      During college I often escaped to my Aunt Pam's house in Atlanta. Her faith was constant and unquestioning even during hard times. I didn't understand it then, but I think I'm beginning to now. Another brick.

      I met the most wonderful guy by sheer accident in New Orleans. He was different. He was cute and kind and selfless and confident all at the same time. The odds of meeting that guy in that place had to be astronomical. I knew it wasn't by chance. He was an answered prayer. Another brick.

      Our daughter was born with an undetermined illness. She was deteriorating before our eyes. I could tell by the look on the doctors face that we were in trouble. Then a group of folks at a small insignificant church started to pray. At the very moment that they held her up in prayer she began a drastic, inexplicable turnaround. Another brick.

      While I was still in the first trimester with my son, I over heard a conversation between two doctors. They said that this child would never make it to term if he lived at all. I refused to accept it. I prayed daily. I cried in the shower so no one would see. I begged. I surrendered and I delivered two weeks before term to a room full of doctors that simply couldn't understand. Another brick.

      Throughout my life God has slowly and painstakingly been laying a foundation of faith. He has given me every reason to believe Him but sometimes I still struggle.

      Teaching was God's idea, not mine. It has become my lifelong passion. I would never have chosen it but I am so very thankful for getting to go to a job everyday that I absolutely love. The Masters in History was His idea. I really wanted a Masters in Art History but every door I tried to go through on that one got slammed shut, so I prayed for guidance and all of the markers pointed to History. Once I completed the degree, I was sure that because God was part of that decision, that it would pay off. It did not. I was frustrated. I just dropped a boatload of cash on something that I might never get a return on. God, what were you thinking?

      Not only that, I was led to a state which has declared war on its teachers. No pay raise in six years. My bills continue to rise but my pay remains stagnant and ridiculously low. Why God? Why you lead me to a state that ranks last in teachers pay? How on earth am I going to be able to survive and take care of my kids? I felt a bit like the Israelites out in the desert. Why did you lead me here to starve? Sure you are providing a little through tutoring and some side jobs but God, that manna is getting old. Is this all you meant for me to do for the rest of my life? Just get by? Barely survive? Constantly struggle?

     I continued to keep lines in the water, so to speak. I had applied for nearly every job I could think of in my field, to no avail. Finally around Christmas, I got a nibble. It was a job at the local community college teaching American History, unfortunately it too fell through. So I did what any normal human would do, I gave up. I surrendered. I had nothing else left in the tank. Ok God, I resign to live in poverty.

     Then in the middle of the afternoon, on a snowy day, I got a call from a number I did not recognize. The lady on the line said she was calling from NCVPS. "Who?" I asked. "North Carolina Virtual Public Schools," she said. "You applied for a job with us about a year ago?" Holy cow! I had forgotten all about that! She and her colleague proceeded to interview me on the phone. When I hung up Michael said "Man you were talking fast, what was that?" Oh great, I thought, I blew it. The lady requested some information which I sent and she followed quickly with the next step of the hiring process. She wanted me to interview with her boss. Whew, I guess I didn't blow it after all. I sent out a prayer request before my second interview and I prayed myself as well.

      Through tears I ask God to show me the path He wanted for me. If this interview didn't go well, I would have to start looking at other employment options and that was Ok, just show me which way to go. Leaving teaching would break my heart, but I was willing to go if that was what I was suppose to do. Make the path clear, Lord and I'll take it. I don't understand but I trust you.

      About ten minutes into the interview, the lady told me to stop right there. My heart sank. How could I have possibly screwed this up so quickly? "You are exactly what I am looking for," she said, "and the job is yours if you want it." I had to fight back tears of relief.

      Now there are only about 700 online teachers in the state and only a fraction of them are art instructors. The chances of me getting this job were slim to none, especially after a year. So I asked her what about my application caught her eye. She said that it was the Masters in History.

      I thought God was torturing me with all of the jobs that fell through but He wasn't torturing me, He was closing doors because He had something better in mind. He was redirecting me. Did I mention that this new job pays significantly more than the college job would have? Oh and the lady from NCVPS also said that she might have another opportunity over the summer working on a team to create new online class modules that involve several different disciplines. When she told me about that one, all I could think was yeah, now He's just showing off. Path markers were clear now, as clear as if they were being lit up in neon lights. My prayers had finally been answered and the answer had come cleverly disguised as a years worth of unanswered prayers.

      It is interesting to me what surrender does. Surrender is faith, maybe even in its purest form. A preacher once told me that true faith is signing your name to the bottom of a blank page and letting God fill in the rest. You are in a place of complete agreement and acceptance. I continue to struggle with that but I believe this experience has laid yet another brick in the solid foundation of my faith wall.

      So for anyone struggling, hang in there. You never know when you will turn the corner and your prayers will be answered. You never know what God is quietly setting up behind the scenes. Remember you can still take it to Him in prayer. Even prayers of frustration are little acts of faith because you do so believing that He is listening and that can lead you one step closer to surrender. :)

      Have a wonderful week!

      Laurie

   

Let 'Em See Your Joy!

      We all have those people in our lives. You know the ones. The Negative Nellies. The Wild Eyed Complainers. The One Uppers. The "I Don't Really Hear a Word You Are Saying So I Will Just Wait 'Til You Stop Talking So I Can Start" Crowd. The mean, nasty cruel folks who derive great pleasure and often make it a point to participate in the misery of those around them. Given the current state of affairs in this world it is almost ridiculously easy for these sorts to not only survive but thrive. One viewing of the daily news or one discussion at the water cooler and they have ample ammunition for another day of anguish, negativity and pot stirring.

      I often wonder just what makes these folks click. To paraphrase ol' Dr. Phil, they must get some kind of pay off from their behavior or they simply wouldn't do it. I fight the urge at times to just confront them with his famous line, "How's that workin' for ya?" What could their pay off possibly be? I suppose, constantly dwelling on the bad things or the calamities of others makes them feel better about what is spinning out of control in their own lives. Maybe it fills some hole or takes the place of loneliness or sadness or pain. Perhaps it is simply a bad habit and that habit has now become too comfortable to let go.

      While I do my best to avoid these people I have to admit that sometimes I fall victim to their well laid traps. Their land minds are carefully placed and cleverly disguised. They take on a variety of forms. Sometimes they suck me into a slanderous conversation. Sometimes I say something I shouldn't. Sometimes I remain quiet when I know I should speak. Sometimes their remarks are addressed directly to me or more commonly about me with the sole intention of evoking a response. Sometimes, against all better judgement, I respond.

      Sometimes it is the bigger picture that gets to me. Sometimes it is the pure and simple fact that so many of the bad guys seem to prosper in this world and that prosperity is usually at the grave expense of someone else. Sometimes its the powers that be that get to me, the folks that hold our futures in their hands and only seem concerned with their own individual greed or advancement. Sometimes its just that Karma seems to be asleep at the wheel.

      As I observe these persons making their way through life, all I can do is pray for them and my reactions to them. I pray that one day their dark veil will be lifted and they might just see a glimmer of that beautiful light streaming in through the clouds. That their life, instead of being a string of constant maladies, might one day transform into a beacon of hope, something to look forward too, a source of joy. Until then though, I have to find a way to tolerate them.

      I have found one profound weapon in the face of such negativity and that weapon is joy. I have made up my mind that those people who would derive such pleasure in watching me suffer or fall will never be granted that satisfaction because although I will face setbacks, I will never concede. I will choose to focus on the gifts. I will wake up thankful every day. I have no control over other individuals and their actions but I do have control over mine. I choose Light. I choose Joy.

      One delightful byproduct of that simple choice is that it drives the Negative Nellies crazy. Think about it, if the mainstay of their existence is to rejoice in someone else's misery what better way to defeat them than to simply be happy, ridiculously, remarkably, inexplicably happy.

      So let 'em see your joy! :) Smile and make 'em wander what you are up to! Walk, no, run, heck turn a few cart wheels, on the bright side and watch those other folks and their negativity fade hopelessly into the background.

      So go on, have a wonderfully, joyful week!

      Laurie

   

Better Than Last Year

      One of the wrestling coaches at our school has a sign on his door that reads "Today Your Job is to Be Better Than You Were Yesterday." I love that quote. I would love to live that quote. Ah but then, life happens.

      During December and January I took what I would consider a writer's sabbatical. A little break was necessary to clear my head, readjust, regroup and just relax. The last few months got a wee bit out of hand. I was working too much, breaking too little and the inevitable burn out ensued. So I took some time off to establish a new direction, take a hard look at some life goals and reinvent the bucket list. Well, to be honest I didn't actually get that far yet but alas, like myself, it is a work in progress.

      Last year I set a goal to pay back the kindness of my parents through what else, weekly acts of kindness. I learned a great deal through my pay it forward deeds but probably the biggest thing was that I still have a long way to go in my quest to be a more useful human being and if I am to achieve that objective in this lifetime I will have to live yet another hundred years or more, maybe two. So for the remaining eleven months of 2014, I have decided it is time to continue my little endeavor and to carry on my quest for personal development by focusing on my problems less and on the good more. I want to be able to see the world and people through God's eyes because my view is often times faulty, cloudy and way too distorted. So I will continue to write. Not for glory, or riches but in the hope that one day when I reach the end of this particular journey, I might have inadvertently learned something.

      The faults, wrongs and injustices of this world could be readily argued but if one takes the time to look, mixed in among them like little jewels blinking in the sun, are so many blessings, gifts, objects of beauty, and moments of joy. What we choose to focus on makes all the difference! Do we take the easy, wide, down hill road and focus on the negative or do we choose every single day to look at life not through rose colored glasses but through the lens of light. Nobody, anywhere that I have ever found, can deliver on that "rose garden," that Lynn Anderson sang about in 1970, (dating myself on that one) so perhaps it is time to stop complaining that roses have thorns and begin thanking the powers that be that those thorns still have roses. No matter what, we always have the gift of choice at least as far as what goes on in our own hearts and minds. It is all a matter of focus. This year, I choose to focus on the good, the inspiring, the beautiful and the joyful. This year my job is to be better than last year!

      Here's to a wonderful 2014!

      Laurie

The Heart Tugs

      As most of you know, I am a teacher. I supplement my income by tutoring and the most frequently requested tutor is a math tutor. I am an art teacher with a unique background in math so I tutor math. Usually I deal in 8th grade or 9th grade math but recently I was asked to take on a 6th grader. When I was first asked about this last gig I was hesitant. Algebra I like. Algebra I get. 6th grade? All I could think, is "Oh Lord, another prep to do." Then I am told that the child has some issues and will require some patience. I said "no." But my friend was persistent so I eventually caved. What can I say, I am pathetically weak.

      So I begin tutoring my new girl. I figured I needed another pay it forward so she would be it, like it or not. Now the first session went ok, the honeymoon period we call it but by the second session, the gloves were off. Attitude is not nearly strong enough a word. I politely went to my friend and attempted yet again to decline and I think I nearly succeeded except for that little tug at my heart. You know the kind. The kind that you just can't say no to. The kind you can't ignore. I had almost made it to the door when I turned around and told my friend I'd give it one more go. All I could think as I was leaving is "You are such a sucker, you are such an idiot! You so don't have time for this." What is crazy is that I knew despite my own inner voice that it was the right thing to do. I just didn't know why, yet.

      The next session was the tell all. I got to the root of her attitude. The weekend prior to our little blow up she had been beaten up, bad enough to send her to the hospital and that's not even the worst part. The assault was carried out by two older male children. Now this young lady is in the 6th grade and might weigh 70 lbs soaking wet, if you weighed her with her book bag on. I was appalled, went straight to my friend and was told yes, it was turned in, yes, mom knows, yes, mom is dealing with it. Now this is what this little girl deals with on the weekends from her so called "friends" and I'm wondering why she can't concentrate on math. Geesh!

      So now our regular tutoring sessions have turned into math tutoring/mentoring sessions. Alas, the reason I couldn't say no. She wasn't put in my path because she needed help with math, she was put in my path because she needed help with math AND self esteem and God knows what else! My point is, there is a reason that I couldn't say no, even though everything in me wanted to. Maybe I can help, maybe I can't, but I have to try.

      A few days after our fateful math lesson I came across this quote by Joel Osteen:

"Your job is not to judge. Your job is not to figure out if someone deserves something. Your job is to lift the fallen, to restore the broken, and to heal the hurting."

      Lesson learned. Don't ignore the heart tugs.

Laurie

The Thanksgiving Board

      For this week's pay it forward, I decided to get a little bit of a jump start on the Thanksgiving holiday spirit. I really wanted my students to think about what was important to them and to voice that in some unique way. I came up with the idea of giving the kids free reign with my white board at the front of the room. I called it the Thanksgiving Board and I wrote "Things I Am Thankful For:" at the top and got them started by writing one thing I was thankful for in a cool graffiti font. I wrote "My Students."

     You see teaching was not exactly my first career choice. Teaching kind of found me, not the other way around and I thank God for that, for it was his vision not mine, that brought me down this weird and winding road.

      Oh, I have my days. There are plenty of pity parties when I hit a low, look at the bills and start calculating how much money I might have made had I stayed in the engineering field, but then I have a week like this one.

      I explained my Thanksgiving Board to my first class of the day. I gave them some rules. Kids like structure. No erasing anyone else's work. Nothing inappropriate. I reserve the right to edit out whatever I see fit. I told them "You can write anything at all that you are thankful for even coffee and chocolate :)  but once you get all of the shallow stuff out of the way, I want you to go a little deeper. What are you really grateful for? What freedoms do you have because of where you live and where you are born and due to the sacrifices of many brave men and women? What joys do you have in your life? What, or better yet who, makes this life worth living?"

      At first the children just kind of looked at the board, then one brave soul ventured up front and began to write. I got some comical stuff. One young lady wrote that she was very thankful for "hot guys" as she put it and the band members of One Direction to be more specific. Once she got the ball rolling the flood gates opened and everyone wanted some space on the board. Let's see, there was watermelon, mine craft, x box, chewing gum, Saturdays and easy math tests, but their were also a few more interesting items. One little girl wrote that she was grateful to be healthy, impressive insight for a seventh grader. One student that had recently undergone a very serious surgery and health scare wrote one word: life.

      But my favorite one had to be from that little girl that just got back from time out of school due to the death of her grandmother. That sweet girl filled an entire three foot sized bubble of things that just she was thankful for. She wrote the individual names of all of her family members. There must have been twenty or so. She stopped a couple of times to be sure that she didn't miss anyone. She wrote her big sister's name extra large with hearts around it. That made me smile and I got to thinking that sometimes it is true what they say about the rain making us appreciate the sunshine. What a brave and wonderful young lady. She is only in the sixth grade but she gets it.

      I know what I am thankful for this year, my family, my health, a job that I love and more importantly my students that I get the privilege to teach. I am truly thankful for their joy, their laughter, their fun, their silliness, their ability to see things in such a simple, unimpeded way. They teach me more than I will ever teach them. God knew what he was doing when he pointed me, well more like pushed me, in this direction. He was giving me yet another wonderful gift to be thankful for.  :)

      Laurie

     
   

Some Things Not Even Chocolate Can Fix

      This has been one of those weeks. Can I get an "Amen" from the peanut gallery? I feel like a metal ball in a pinball machine getting bounced around and popped at every turn. Apparently I am not alone. 

 

      I have noticed quite a few downtrodden faces this week, more than the normal average. It's spreading like a virus. So in an effort to douse my sorrows I did what any woman would do to feel better. No not drink a glass of wine, although that thought crossed my mind once or twice. I am talking about eating chocolate!

      Fortunately the band and chorus at school were conducting a candy sale this week as a fundraiser. They stored the culinary delights in our teacher's lounge and when you walked in you were hit with the most amazing aroma of milk chocolate. Is it possible to gain weight by breathing? Anyway I shelled out my dollar and took a few minutes to delight in one of life's true pleasures, stress eating. And it worked! Well at least for a little while. 

      Children kept coming up to me all week trying to sell me more and more candy. It is hard to resist those cute little faces so I found myself with a rather large supply of chocolate bars. Enter this week's pay it forward. Look for the most down trodden kid in class and give them a treat.

      In the first class it went to a child that has had a hard time this week fitting in. The second to someone that just went through a rather traumatic event. The next bar went to a fellow teacher who was having a bad day. But the best one didn't even get a candy bar. This little one looked a bit down but she is not really a talker. So I asked her if she would like a candy bar. "Candy can't fix this Mrs. Sloan," she said. I asked her if she wanted to talk about it. She said that her grandmother died last night. Aw, man. Well, she teared up, so I teared up and I hugged her and told how truly sorry I was. She said she was headed to the funeral and would be missing a few days of school. I told her I would miss her and that I'd be thinking of her and her family. What a sweet baby and she was right, candy couldn't fix that one. 

      I have to wonder if I hadn't been looking for someone to give the candy to, if I would have had the chance to talk to her. I would like to think that I would have taken the time to figure it out but hey, with a class full of rambunctious youngins, who knows? Funny how things work out. 

      You have probably noticed that I haven't had as many posts lately. That is due in part to the fact that I have picked up another job. In my quest to become financially stable I missed a few weeks of blogging and serious pay it forwarding. Today made me wonder what else I may have missed. 

      Have a good rest of the week and try not to miss out on an opportunity to help someone out along the way! :)

Laurie

Thanks Coach!

      Unfortunately all too often in my profession, one sees the harm done to children by outside influences beyond their control. Frequently it is the adults charged with their protection that knowingly or unknowingly drop the ball. Don't get me wrong, I get how hard parenting is, believe me. It is hands down the toughest job in the world. It takes patience, commitment, time and a little luck. Done well it changes who you are and if you are not whole when you start the process it is nearly impossible to get it right. Sadly there are a lot of damaged people out there raising children and they set in motion a gloomy legacy of hurt. If they are extremely lucky their kids find someone in their life to brush 'em off and love 'em through it. This might happen at church, at school, within the extended family unit or maybe even on the football field.

     Coaches work long, thankless, underpaid hours. Many are parent volunteers. These are the folks that give me hope. It is refreshing to see adults so plugged in. Parents and coaches who put their kids first no matter how many practices or games they have to drive them too, no matter how many times they stay up helping an exhausted kid with homework and no matter how many late night dinners they have to endure. Fast food still counts for dinner, right? These coaches are not only looking out for their kids, they are there looking out for the players of the parents that can't get off work early to get to practice. They take the new kid under their wing while staying on the student that is behind in math to be sure he gets all his work done. They are more than coaches they are role models and leaders. They are mentors and they help fill in the gaps that we as parents might miss. 

      Maybe not all coaches rise to this challenge but the football coaches at our school definitely do and I feel very fortunate to work with them. This week's pay it forward was simple: homemade pumpkin pie after practice for these dedicated guys. So here's to all those men and women out there who donate their time to test their patience with a bunch of wiry, energetic, off the wall children. Thanks for all you do and for helping our kids through that awkward and sometimes rough transition toward adulthood! You are the epitome of pay it forward!

Laurie   

Just Be

      I believe in taking a few minutes each day to just be. I have learned from years of experience, big work loads and high stress levels that learning to slow down, just a little every day is the difference between a freaked out Laurie and a "how can I help you" Laurie. It is easy, for me at least, to get wrapped up in the day to day grind. The responsibilities, the work, the duties, the "get er done" stuff can easily consume me if I'm not careful.

      I can usually handle the non stop rush for a few days or so before I begin to crack. First there is a quick, snappy response followed by an uncharacteristically mean one and finally I retreat inside myself, not noticing anything or anyone but the work at hand. What a waste of my time, of precious resources, of life. When I get like that I miss the big picture, the reason for being here. So, I meditate. I pray. I sit still, no matter how difficult that may be, and I let God calm me down. I give him permission, like he needs it, to run the show for just a little while.

      This daily break is a form of therapy for me and it truly works wonders.  It is during such sessions that I have the time to breathe, to think, to be inspired. I am always on the look out for the next pay it forward opportunity and I am sure that it is no coincidence that those ideas flow more easily during these down times. I have found through the years that most of my questions get answered if only I take the time to listen for the response.

      This weeks pay it forward idea came during one such be still session and it is such a simple one. This week I decided to do something nice for my favorite local businesses. I got a Yelp account and went online to write some reviews. It was such an easy thing to do but I know from being in business myself how helpful it is to read not only what you can improve on but what you are doing right. It is a difficult climate for businesses right now and as an owner and a manager it is frustrating sometimes to be in charge of so many other people. Everything they do reflects on you, good or bad. So this week, I decided to help them see the good and catch them doing something right. I wrote honest, heart felt reviews about the businesses that my family and I frequent on a regular basis and why we do so. I hope that it gives some overworked managers and their employees a boost today!

      I hope you have a wonderful day and a great weekend, and don't forget to take a minute or two to recharge you batteries and just be. :)

Laurie

Enjoying the Visit

      A few weeks ago I was certain that I was kissing my sweet grandmother goodbye for the last time. I guess Nana and God had other plans and I was thankful to be wrong yet again. Nana is still recuperating from her heart attack which is complicated by the Alzheimer's but this all could have been so much worse. She was literally on death's door. Now she resides at Dennett Road Nursing Home. I'm not sure she totally knows where she is but she seems happy to be there. She lights up when she recognizes one of her favorite nurses and tells her how much she loves her. She knows where her room is located, most of the time and seems content to rest there. She happily points out where she eats her meals and seems genuinely thrilled to see her new found friends. (If she happens to forget them, no worries, she usually starts liking them all over again tomorrow.) It certainly pays to be positive. The nurses love her and so do I!

      I really enjoyed my visit with Nana. My mother and I took her out to lunch and to get her nails done. What we did didn't matter. I just enjoyed being with her. We sat and talked in the lobby of the nursing home and I must say it was rather entertaining. I watched as the incredibly patient staff dealt with some of the more challenging residents. One lady was quite cranky and tried to pull the hair of the nurse that vainly attempted to return her to her room. One constantly plotted her escape when she thought no one was watching and the cutest one was a sweet, lost soul who kept wondering the halls and crawling into bed with any resident that left their door open. That caused quite a raucous to be sure!

      As I sat watching all of this I also saw some wonderful displays of human kindness and love. I witnessed a very caring nurse hug her patient and tell them that she loved them. I saw family members making their weekly visits with a couple of the cutest babies I have ever seen and I watched in awe the transformation from loneliness to pure joy as the residents greeted their visitors. I learned that it doesn't take much to get that sort of reaction.

      Nana has a friend there, her name is Joanne. As we sat chatting Joanne mentioned that some of the residents had been asking the administrators for a chess board. "One of the nice ones," she said. "The kind with a checker board on the back." I asked her if she would be able to find someone to play with. "Sure," she said. "I have a couple of friends who still like to play cards and would love to play chess." We joked with her that Nana use to be an awesome bridge player but nowadays when she plays cards she changes games on you midway through. You never really know what you are playing unless you ask. No worries. It makes things interesting and she usually wins.  

      I am sure by now you have probably figured out the pay it forward. Yeah, I just had to get them a chess board. I delivered it to Joanne who looked like someone just gave her an awesome Christmas gift.  She thanked me and made a beeline for the cafeteria tables where she happily set up her new chess set. By the time I left she had recruited a friend and was patiently reminding them how to move each piece. It did my heart good to make her smile if only for a little while.

      You know, I use to dread visiting hospitals and the like. Now because of my Nana, Joanne and some sweet residents of a remarkably well run nursing home, I look forward to it. :)

Laurie

   


     

Good Vibrations

      Some might say that I am a gifted hoarder. I have managed in the eleven years that I have worked at my current job to put together quite a plethora of art supplies. Now to the untrained eye these treasures might be mistaken for mere trash but to the art teacher things like toilet paper rolls, beads and yarn are crafter's gold. We don't see the world the same as other people. Where some normal person might see a milk carton we see a cleverly decorated piece of gothic architecture decked out in full Halloween splendor. They see a styrofoam meat tray and the art teacher sees the basis for a beautiful stamp design. So we are hoarders by our very nature. Art teachers carefully store supplies during the education years of plenty to get us through the inevitable years of famine. We have to prepare so that when the next politician comes along using all his infinite wisdom to convince folks that art doesn't matter and cuts our funding, we are ready!  

      This week I got an email announcing the first art meeting of the school year. Now to be brutally honest I was not terribly excited. It isn't that I don't love my job and all that goes with it but I already have quite a full plate at the present and well who really looks forward to another meeting? Anyway the follow up  email mentioned something about an art supply swap happening at the get together since many of the art teachers are currently on tight budgets if they are fortunate enough to have any art budget at all. The whole idea behind it is, well you know the cliche, one person's junk is someone else's treasure.

     So after class on Monday I was rooting through the cavernous art closet adjacent to the art room trying to get one more thing knocked off my list before I went home. One of my favorite students was helping me with my task by jotting down all of the items I might be willing to spare for this upcoming supply swap. At first it was just a boring -what can I donate to the group-what do I really not want anyway- kind of thing. Now quite honestly I was not too enthused with my task until something clicked, I stopped and said "Wait a minute. There is an opportunity here." My favorite student who also happens to be the president of Junior Civitans knows me well. She knows all about my little weekly projects. We looked at each other as if to say "Pay it Forward." I smiled and she smiled a big smile back. "Let's try an experiment." I said. She grinned. I told her about this theory of mine that what we put out there comes back. "It's like sending out good vibrations and waiting to see how those ripples effect someone else as well as yourself," I told her. "So let's pack a really cool swap box with good junk and stuff that folks would actually want, not just the bottom of the deck things I am willing to part with. I'm going to put in some really cool items that I would not normally give away and let's see how long it takes for something good to come back to me and my art classes." My sweet student lit up "Yeah, Mrs. Sloan. Let's do the experiment! Pay it forward!" Did I say that she is my favorite?

      The whole energy in the room changed. We started moving around the closet noting what we thought was cool and what we thought other teachers might ew and ah over and we had a ball doing it! All that is left now is to pack everything up and haul it to the meeting. I get to clear out my stuffed supply cabinet and help out some colleagues at the same time. Win/win.

      The coolest thing about this whole project was that it wasn't just the clutter in my closet that began to disappear. I also unloaded some nasty internal garbage that had been accumulating for far too long like fear, selfishness, and control. No more worrying that if I give those supplies away I might need them tomorrow. That's ok. If I haven't used them yet, I probably won't need them after all and someone else will benefit from them sooner rather than later. No more thinking that I worked hard to collect all of this stuff, this should be used for my students. Instead of helping just myself, I get the joy of knowing that another teacher benefitted from my endless hoarding and more importantly so did some other students. No more of the I have to keep all of this stuff because it gives me some sense of control over my circumstances. Let's face it, I was never that organized to begin with. :)

      Now instead of dreading the meeting, I am looking forward to it. I might just get the chance to make some other educator's day and I am curious to see if our theory of good vibrations holds true.
To be continued...

Laurie

True Success

      I have been thinking a lot this week about what it means to have a successful life. Our culture would have us believe the old adage "He who finishes with the most toys wins." I fell prey to that one myself once upon a time. It is easy to believe that true success involves some tangible markers like a large house, nice clothes, a little bling and a fancy ride. I have none of those things. I couldn't even begin to tell you what the current fashion trends are and my car is so old that the paint job probably wouldn't be able to withstand a high powered pressure wash, not that I would even bother. At some point it just doesn't matter anymore.

      My idea of success has undergone a few changes through the years and to be totally honest, it is still a work under construction. I use to have a poster that hung in my college dorm room of this gorgeous mansion with a six car garage that housed a remarkable collection of sports cars including a Lamborghini, a Ferrari, a Porsche, well you get the picture. Anyway the poster read "Justification For Higher Education." I remember thinking "Yeah, I might live in a shack but I will drive a car like that one day!" Man, did I have a lot to learn. Today those cars wouldn't even be on my radar and I think maybe, that is a good thing.

      I think that true success involves learning how to look past the material stuff and start really caring about the heart stuff. It requires a restructuring of the human ego so that we learn to value one another's needs more than our own. I think one way God achieves this type of transformation is by giving us children since, as my dear mother would say, the fact that they are still alive is evidence that we have come a long way. :)

      I think another valuable way that God teaches us to love is through our families, friends and the oh so unlovable folks that are always creeping into our lives without permission. For me, one of the best "love" teachers in my life was my grandmother. Marianna listened when no one else would, (or when the rest exited the room from sheer exhaustion) she empathized, she cared, she attempted to understand and she loved me when I was quite frankly, unlovable. I had no idea what a remarkable thing that was until later in life when I became a teacher and started mentoring my own students. All any child wants, heck all any human being wants is for someone to listen, really listen.

      Success is, to paraphrase Mother Teresa, loving them anyway. Being there for that bratty child who you would really like to send packing but understanding that on a deeper level it is always the annoying ones that need you the most. Success is knowing that time spent loving someone through something is never, ever time wasted. Success is the realization that schedules and to do lists are great but God is in the interruptions. It is understanding that we are here to ease one another's sorrow, to help, to care, to mend. All those awesome cars and beautiful clothes won't matter one big ol' hill of beans if we don't learn how to love.

      The trouble with stuff is that we have to work so hard to get it, to keep it and to maintain it, that we don't have enough time for the things, no the people that really matter. My Nana taught me that. She always had time for me. She still does. In honor of her, this weeks pay it forward will be a series of cards and letters sent to my Nana's nursing home attempting in my own feeble way to help her understand why her life was so incredibly valuable and successful. I just finished my first one and I cried all the way through it. I have to be sure that she understands what an important role she has played in my life and how truly grateful I am for her lessons.

Laurie

The First Law of Thermodynamics

      The past few weeks have been an emotional roller coaster. I got a surprise call, left on my phone in the middle of the night. You know the kind of call I'm talking about, the sort that everyone dreads. "Nana is very sick. She has been taken to the emergency room. We will let you know something as soon as we can." Yeah, that is almost never good. I went to work wishing that I could stay home by the phone but knowing that the distraction would be a welcome break from the constant worrying. The call came early, right after the morning rounds at the hospital. It was a heart attack. Really a series of heart attacks. They were still actively occurring and there were multiple blood clots in her lungs. I left work right away and began the nine hour trek home. I arrived well past visiting hours and was not expecting to see Nana until the following morning. I was so grateful when they let me in that evening. She was tired, confused and hurting. When we asked her where she hurt, she couldn't pinpoint it. She just didn't feel well and all she wanted to do was sleep. I got to stay with her and hold her hand. I got to tell her how much I love her and hear her say it again to me one more time. She was ready to die. There was no fear. No worry. At least on her part. 

      While I was visiting my dear grandmother, I got to experience one of the most powerful pay it forwards that I have ever seen, performed by a couple of completely imperfect, unprepared but loving individuals. Nana has two daughters, my mother Karen and my aunt Pam. Nana has not lived in her own house for the past thirteen years or so. She moved in with Mom right after she finished construction on her current home. Nana split her time between Maryland with Mom and Atlanta with Pam. The sisters made certain that she had whatever she needed, wherever she was. In return Nana was always helping out by doing the grocery shopping, cooking, laundry, ironing or cleaning. Nana always reminded me of the trains in that Thomas the Tank Engine cartoon that my kids made me watch like a gazillion times when they were little. She always wanted to be a "really useful engine." When Nana finally had to give up driving, it just about killed her. She didn't feel like she could affectively contribute anymore. She loved going to the grocery store and now she could not do that without relying on someone to take her and that just wasn't her style. 

      Nana's slow deterioration was painful to watch. Alzheimer's was taking its toll. This past year was the hardest. She would ask us all again and again how old we were and she would get the great grands confused. She had this crazy herding tendency. She wouldn't rest until everyone was corralled at home and everyone was safe. Unfortunately for my Mom and Pam that meant that she needed to know about every short trip out of the room, not that she would remember once they told her. It must have been very scary for her and extremely frustrating for them. 

      The sisters have endured years and years of Alzheimer's and tried their best to love Nana through it. It meant a great many sacrifices on their parts but I never once heard either of them complain. As I watched them tend to her and sit with her around the clock at the hospital I thought of how lucky she was to have raised such great daughters that would put their lives on hold to be with their ailing mother. They were both tired and stressed but they never let Nana know it. They did her nails, brushed her hair and fed her. All I could think of while I was there was how lucky Nana was to have them. How much they loved each other was apparent to everyone, the nurses, the relatives, the visitors. 

      Unfortunately the worst was yet to come. Nana did not die from the heart attacks or the blood clots but she was left unable to do even the simplest of tasks and the sisters faced the excruciating decision of putting her in a nursing home at least for the time being. It broke their hearts. They set about making her room as much like home as possible. They moved in her favorite chair, got her a bedspread for the bed and added touches from home. They just don't know what tomorrow might bring, but they are prepared to love her through it, whatever it is, no matter what.

      The first law of thermodynamics states that energy cannot be created or destroyed it only changes form. Nana told me that her mother Mary came to visit her one night while she was at the hospital. I smiled thinking how great it was that love never really dies either, like other forms of energy it simply undergoes its own type of transformation, from mother to daughter and back again.

      I am grateful for the beautiful lesson of love that I saw demonstrated by two equally beautiful women. Thanks to my mom and my aunt for taking such great care of my Nana. I pray that one day I will be able to return the favor on her behalf. 

Laurie

The Reversal

      A couple of weekends ago my family and I experienced a reverse pay it forward. That's right, this time we were the recipients of a good deed. Let me explain. We live near the water and we own a small boat that had been having a few minor issues lately. It is relatively new but it was suffering from lack of water time and as any boat owner can tell you, they run better when they are run often. Well due to circumstances beyond our control, Michael and I have been unable to take this little beauty out as frequently as we would like, so she is copping a bit of an attitude. When we took her out earlier this summer we noticed a strange sound in the engine so we brought her to the mechanic just to play it safe. He said everything was fine so when Michael, Maddie, and I decided to take it out for a short Sunday excursion we felt pretty confident that she would be up for the task. Fortunately we decided not to go out too far, just in case. 

      We had the boat out on the Neuse River and as we were turning to head in, it just died. The motor sputtered a little, let out a short cough and just like that, she was done. We were left to the mercy of the current in the big river that was taking us further and further away from home. Alright, I thought, I can use some down time. We will just hang out here with two scared little dogs, in the hot sun while a couple of extremely ominous storm clouds begin to take shape simultaneously off in the distance until we can find someone to come get us. No problem, yeah right! Who wants to spend their Sunday afternoon wandering out in a storm on the water to tow some helpless folks back to shore? Michael perused his contacts list on his phone and called a good friend of ours who has a boat and told him about the problem. Our friend's name is Rodney. He offered to drop what he was doing and put in his boat to come out and get us. Now I am sure that was not how he planned on spending his day but he did it anyway. No questions asked. No complaining. No trouble.

      It didn't matter that we hadn't talked in awhile or that I regularly fail to recognize him in his beefed up pickup truck as he passes my little mouse mobile waving energetically. It was of no concern to him that we may never be able to pay him back in that the likelihood of both our boat running and us being anywhere in the vicinity of the waterway at the same time that he might have a similar crisis must be astronomical. With our current schedules and luck the poor man would have a better chance at winning the lottery. No, none of that seemed to phase him. He refused payment several times as did his son. The only thing I could get them to consider accepting was a homemade pie. When I mentioned lemon meringue Rodney said "Now your are talking."

     I have never lived anywhere in which we have had the privilege of having such awesome friends. We have no family here, no close relatives nearby but we have always, always found help when we needed it. I feel very blessed by the people in this community that I call friends. I can't begin to count the number of folks that live right in this neighborhood that have been there for us through the years. Never once would they accept any form of reimbursement. Time and time again I hear the same sentiment. "We don't take payment from friends." 

     Well, Mr. Rodney, this time you are taking payment because I am bringing you a pie this weekend. I cannot be held responsible if the teenagers get to it before you do but I am honoring my part of the bargain, and should you happen to read this please know that I was never so happy to see anyone as I was to see you and your son on that Sunday afternoon. We can never thank you enough for being such awesome, thoughtful and kind neighbors! You have made us all feel very blessed. Thank you for your help and here's hoping we can return the favor one day. Until then, enjoy the pie! 

Laurie 

Sometimes It's Just Too Easy

     This past weekend was a busy one. It was the tax free weekend in North Carolina. It is the traditional school shopping weekend at our house for that very reason. Maddie bought her computer for college and Colton and I went shopping for his clothes, which he seems to outgrow almost weekly.

      Now when it comes to clothes shopping Colt is a bit of a divo, well sort of. The only place he will buy his clothes is JC Penney. Yeah, I know. Anyway, without JCP the boy would go around naked, so off we went to his favorite store. We gathered up a pretty impressive stack of clothes and drug them to the crowded dressing room. You know it is tax free weekend when even the guys dressing room is nearing capacity. Anyway, as I stood patiently waiting for Colt to try on his clothes, I engaged in one of my absolute favorite pastimes, people watching.

      I happened to notice another mom and her son working their way through the men's section and stopping occasionally to browse through the endless array of racks. The son was selecting items and the mom was looking at the price tags, shaking her head and putting them back. Every now and then they seemed to agree on something and she added it to her pile. They made their way past me and I turned my gaze to the next set of mother/son pairs many of which exhibited a similar shopping pattern. I felt kind of ashamed. Here I was just recently complaining about my station in life and right in front of me were so many folks obviously worse off than I was with their own set of trials and battles to fight.

      As Colt and I made our way to the check out counter with our arms full of new school clothes, I said a short prayer of thanks for the ability to buy these things for my son. I took out my credit card and a coupon that I had saved and gave them to the cashier. She smiled and said "This coupon is a good one. You can use it as much as you like in the next 24 hours and you can choose between 15% or $10 off your purchase whichever works out best." I smiled, grateful for a small break to my budget. It's a shame I won't be back tomorrow, I thought. Then who should appear next to me at the check out but one of the mothers that I had observed earlier and her son. I grinned, thinking sometimes this pay it forward thing is just too easy. "Do you have a coupon?" I asked her. "No." She responded. I said, "Would you like one?" As Colt and I walked out the door, he looked at me and said, "That was cool, Mom." Yeah, I thought, that kind of was. :)

Laurie