Several people have asked me recently how it is going back to school at this point in life. It's hard!! But it is so much more meaningful because I have a definite goal. In my case, it's a lifelong goal, so I am excited about it and I love my classes. But it's still a real challenge. On Monday and Wednesday, I spend all morning schooling with Wesley and Honour (mostly Wesley as Honour is older and very independent-she also likes to work together LATE at night and sleep in). Then I go to class, where I change gears and become the student. This semester is Physiology, which is all about thinking through the why and how of the body.
Then I come home to deal with dinner, usually a quick meal of sandwiches or leftovers from the weekend. If there are activities to be driven to, we do that. By the time I get everyone settled and upstairs it's close to 10. That's when I start on grading papers and prepping classes for the next day. I teach all day on Tuesdays and Thursdays, usually after very little sleep. So in the evening, I crash - often on Eddie's lap while we watch TV. He is so gracious and is happy to buy us pizza or other quick dinner for Tuesdays. Thursdays, the kids are with their dad so I either take us a quick dinner or stop on the way for fast food.
By Friday morning, it is tough to drag myself out of bed, but the reward is being able to stay home ALL day if I want to. We do all the stuff for school we didn't get to earlier in the week, usually the fun stuff. Today we watched a History Channel show about the Dark Ages - it was great. Then I catch up on laundry and housework, paperwork, and cooking. I really do love to cook. It is time consuming, though. We still eat relatively healthy when we're home. I keep eggs, low fat meats, fruit and veggies. I cook lots of rice or noodles and keep them in the fridge. But to have the luxury of a few hours to make a nice meal is something I appreciate more now than I ever have. I study on the weekends and if I'm waiting for kids at their activities. It's all I can do to keep up with one class at a time. My goal is a 4.0 in all these prerequisite classes so I have a chance at whatever grad program I decide to apply to. It won't be easy.
So that's what a week looks like. I so enjoyed the Christmas break and I look forward to Spring Break and summer as well. I'll take a class in the summer, but I won't have to teach or homeschool. It's just what I need to refresh and be ready for the fall again.
But for now, I have meatloaf in the oven, the dryer is running, and I have to pick up B from an afterschool project. It's the little things that make life so good. In a couple of hours I'll have a full tummy and my kids and my man all here with me and NO work to be done.
That's why I love Fridays!!!
Friday, February 10, 2012
Sunday, February 05, 2012
Grief is a Many Faceted Emotion
Some of my posts are for documenting funny or fun things about being a mom. Some are about homemaking. This one is probably more therapy for me than anything. Grief hit me like a ton of bricks today, more than 2 yrs after my dad died. So, I feel the need to get a story out. The good, the bad, and the ugly of it.
In 2008 my dad went through a tough time. He was newly divorced after a short lived marriage that was a mistake after my mother died. He had loved her for 37 years and was lost without her. He made a mistake and it was a hard, hard time. He had retired from a life in the restaurant business, so he was alone, dejected and very lonely. My brother, sister, and I all encouraged him to find a job, any job. He needed to get out of the house and be with people. My dad was a People Person, with 2 capital P's! Sitting around the house with his dog was allowing him to sink further and further into depression. He had great friends and church family that probably is the only thing that saved his sanity. But it wasn't enough. So he got a job driving a school bus. He could make the morning run, spend the midday on the lake fishing (his real passion), and then make the afternoon run. It was perfect for him. He drove for one year for one school district and then the next year he moved to another district closer to home and with better conditions and pay.
By this time, he had reconnected with a lifelong friend, a lady that had been my mom's best friend. Her husband and dad were fraternity brothers. The 4 of them were so close and that friendship stood through both of their partners' deaths. So they talked, and talked some more... they visited. It was now to the point that they were making life changes so they could get married. She lived in Memphis, but visited often. I grew up loving her and was so thrilled they could be together and make each other happy.
On the morning of September 14, 2009, Dad was a substitute driver. The route was a special education route that he had not driven before. He left very early, about 6 in the morning. It was still dark, it was rainy and very foggy. Somehow, he didn't see a tractor trailer coming down the deserted road and he pulled out in front of it. There were no children on the bus yet, but he had an aid since it was a Special Ed bus. Although that man was injured badly, he survived. My father did not. He died on that highway in a most tragic way. That time was a blur. I got the call and went straight to his house. As the story unfolded, my emotions were all over the place. I know it's normal, but the anger was palpable. He died driving that school bus. It was very easy to blame the bus, even myself for encouraging him to get a job... If he was not doing that, he would have been at home, perhaps lonely, but SAFE. My brain wasn't thinking clearly through the fog of grief. I so deperately wanted to lash out at the school district, the other drivers, anything that could explain it away. I was MAD.
We set the service for a Friday at 2 pm, in the middle of the day to allow for the people who would drive from Austin, Waco, and Dallas to be able to do it in a day. I really didn't think about the school district. He had only been there 2 weeks, it's not like they really knew my father. But they wanted to have their own service to honor him. I was so mad, I didn't even want to go. In my mind, it was these people who were the closest to being responsible for his death. I know - NOT logical or true- but I was hurting and upset. So, we reluctantly went to the service. All the siblings and his two sisters and the lady I loved now so much. My attitude was not the best. I felt they were intruding on our grief.
What I saw in the next hour or two made me drop my jaw! They started out with the administrator telling the story of his hiring, only a few weeks earlier. His main question was "Am I going to be able to fish?" Once she assured him it was a split shift, he was on board. Then a man got up to tell a story that I was stunned by. This was a man who had known my father 40+ years ago when they both ran track at Memphis State University. He ran into my dad here many years later and 2 states away, working in the same schools. He remembered him and told some funny stories I had never heard. Then one driver after another, from both districts he had driven for, got up to tell how my father had impacted them. He always cared about people and they knew it. They told how he gave parenting advice, asked about their families, listened to their troubles. Oh my! I couldn't believe how many people had been touched by his short time in those positions. One of them told of how much he loved driving and loved the children he drove. He always had a way with kids and could be strong for when it was needed. We had heard at home about the kids, but this day we heard how the kids felt about him and about how much he was loved by his fellow drivers. I was blown away. At the end, the drivers filed by in front of the family, more and more telling how they loved his smile and will miss him in the bus yard.
As you can imagine, my heart was changed by this time. They were no longer an intrusion on my grief, they were lovely people who grew to love my father in such a short time. I felt guilt, relief, still great sadness, and an appreciation for the fact that he had loved what he was doing in this stage of his life. My dad was a great man. I still miss him so terribly. Today I would have invited him here for the Superbowl on our big new TV with all the junkfood he would have loved.
Because this was a newsworthy event in his little town it was in the paper and on the news. There were ugly, hateful comments on those website articles about how he must have been a careless driver. My father hadn't had an accident in his entire driving life. We asked HOW could this have happened for so long. My boyfriend, Eddie, and I went to the site of the accident several times to analyze it and try to figure it out. We think the large upright mirror blocked his view of the truck lights in the fog and dark for just the split second it took him to pull out. I needed an answer. We'll never truly know but I know my father never would have put anyone's life in danger. It hurt to hear negative things about "those bus drivers".
Why did this hit me today, over 2 years after the accident? The sermon in church this morning was about Esther. He spoke of people whose passion takes them to a place where people need help so much. Maybe my father was driving that bus, in that place and time for all the children and other drivers that he touched. I hate that he is gone, my children have no grandparents anymore. I hate that I miss him all the time. But, he may have been there "for such a time as that". I can not question all this after the fact.
In 2008 my dad went through a tough time. He was newly divorced after a short lived marriage that was a mistake after my mother died. He had loved her for 37 years and was lost without her. He made a mistake and it was a hard, hard time. He had retired from a life in the restaurant business, so he was alone, dejected and very lonely. My brother, sister, and I all encouraged him to find a job, any job. He needed to get out of the house and be with people. My dad was a People Person, with 2 capital P's! Sitting around the house with his dog was allowing him to sink further and further into depression. He had great friends and church family that probably is the only thing that saved his sanity. But it wasn't enough. So he got a job driving a school bus. He could make the morning run, spend the midday on the lake fishing (his real passion), and then make the afternoon run. It was perfect for him. He drove for one year for one school district and then the next year he moved to another district closer to home and with better conditions and pay.
By this time, he had reconnected with a lifelong friend, a lady that had been my mom's best friend. Her husband and dad were fraternity brothers. The 4 of them were so close and that friendship stood through both of their partners' deaths. So they talked, and talked some more... they visited. It was now to the point that they were making life changes so they could get married. She lived in Memphis, but visited often. I grew up loving her and was so thrilled they could be together and make each other happy.
On the morning of September 14, 2009, Dad was a substitute driver. The route was a special education route that he had not driven before. He left very early, about 6 in the morning. It was still dark, it was rainy and very foggy. Somehow, he didn't see a tractor trailer coming down the deserted road and he pulled out in front of it. There were no children on the bus yet, but he had an aid since it was a Special Ed bus. Although that man was injured badly, he survived. My father did not. He died on that highway in a most tragic way. That time was a blur. I got the call and went straight to his house. As the story unfolded, my emotions were all over the place. I know it's normal, but the anger was palpable. He died driving that school bus. It was very easy to blame the bus, even myself for encouraging him to get a job... If he was not doing that, he would have been at home, perhaps lonely, but SAFE. My brain wasn't thinking clearly through the fog of grief. I so deperately wanted to lash out at the school district, the other drivers, anything that could explain it away. I was MAD.
We set the service for a Friday at 2 pm, in the middle of the day to allow for the people who would drive from Austin, Waco, and Dallas to be able to do it in a day. I really didn't think about the school district. He had only been there 2 weeks, it's not like they really knew my father. But they wanted to have their own service to honor him. I was so mad, I didn't even want to go. In my mind, it was these people who were the closest to being responsible for his death. I know - NOT logical or true- but I was hurting and upset. So, we reluctantly went to the service. All the siblings and his two sisters and the lady I loved now so much. My attitude was not the best. I felt they were intruding on our grief.
What I saw in the next hour or two made me drop my jaw! They started out with the administrator telling the story of his hiring, only a few weeks earlier. His main question was "Am I going to be able to fish?" Once she assured him it was a split shift, he was on board. Then a man got up to tell a story that I was stunned by. This was a man who had known my father 40+ years ago when they both ran track at Memphis State University. He ran into my dad here many years later and 2 states away, working in the same schools. He remembered him and told some funny stories I had never heard. Then one driver after another, from both districts he had driven for, got up to tell how my father had impacted them. He always cared about people and they knew it. They told how he gave parenting advice, asked about their families, listened to their troubles. Oh my! I couldn't believe how many people had been touched by his short time in those positions. One of them told of how much he loved driving and loved the children he drove. He always had a way with kids and could be strong for when it was needed. We had heard at home about the kids, but this day we heard how the kids felt about him and about how much he was loved by his fellow drivers. I was blown away. At the end, the drivers filed by in front of the family, more and more telling how they loved his smile and will miss him in the bus yard.
As you can imagine, my heart was changed by this time. They were no longer an intrusion on my grief, they were lovely people who grew to love my father in such a short time. I felt guilt, relief, still great sadness, and an appreciation for the fact that he had loved what he was doing in this stage of his life. My dad was a great man. I still miss him so terribly. Today I would have invited him here for the Superbowl on our big new TV with all the junkfood he would have loved.
Because this was a newsworthy event in his little town it was in the paper and on the news. There were ugly, hateful comments on those website articles about how he must have been a careless driver. My father hadn't had an accident in his entire driving life. We asked HOW could this have happened for so long. My boyfriend, Eddie, and I went to the site of the accident several times to analyze it and try to figure it out. We think the large upright mirror blocked his view of the truck lights in the fog and dark for just the split second it took him to pull out. I needed an answer. We'll never truly know but I know my father never would have put anyone's life in danger. It hurt to hear negative things about "those bus drivers".
Why did this hit me today, over 2 years after the accident? The sermon in church this morning was about Esther. He spoke of people whose passion takes them to a place where people need help so much. Maybe my father was driving that bus, in that place and time for all the children and other drivers that he touched. I hate that he is gone, my children have no grandparents anymore. I hate that I miss him all the time. But, he may have been there "for such a time as that". I can not question all this after the fact.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)