Today was just about perfect! Although it is still January, today most was a bright, sunny day. Temperatures almost reached 70 degrees here in Nashville. Winter is not over, but today gave us a glimpse of the promise of spring!
My seniors have been working on observations for a writing project. These involved off campus trips to observe a variety of people in a natural environment. For most of my classes, this meant a local shopping mall. (One early class went to Cracker Barrel to observe while enjoying biscuits and gravy!) Our goal was to observe visible characteristics and traits that will serve as the basis for a character story development. I've always been a people watcher, so I got into it as much as my students!
As I observed by students observing others today, I was reminded just how little we really know by observations. Of course, we can observe physical things--clothing, hair coloring, physical features. We can observe other social appearances such as friendliness, happiness, or sadness. We can assume these are accurate, but we really have no way of truly knowing what may really be going on in another person's life. We assume our co-workers, fellow students, and family members are fine, and living life to the best of their ability. We pass judgment on others based on what we see. Our perceptions are our reality in so much of life.
Earlier this week, I watched a news report about a prayer vigil for two teenagers who recently committed suicide in the Nashville area. According to family members, these two young lives were lost as a result of depression over bullying. Two weeks ago, a senior at another area high school also chose to end her life because she felt her life was worthless. Last week, a dear friend of mine, chose to end her life because the depression with which she had been dealing simply overtook her. So many lives lost and seemingly without cause.
I once heard that more suicides are completed in January than any other month. The long dreary days of winter can sometimes cause physical illness and depression There is also a let-down following the holidays, particularly when those holiday bills arrive in the mailbox! Many spouses file for divorce as the new year begins. Life seems too much to handle. January always holds a sadness for me because, in 1984, my dear father chose to end his own life while in an irrational state of depression. Just last year, my cousin died in the same way. Ryan was a great young man with a young family. Gone from us way too soon, as result of a depression just too much to overcome.
And so, as I sat in the mall with my students today, I thought about all of the people walking by. The mothers with young children; the grandmothers and grandfathers; the teenagers in baggy pants. I wondered if any of them had an internal gloom that was almost unbearable. A gloom that was far darker and deeper than the bright, beautiful sunshine outside. I wondered if a smile or an encouraging word could brighten a day in their life. Certainly a smile wouldn't take all the bad away, but it certainly couldn't hurt! I found myself smiling and speaking to some of them--just a smile in passing. It felt good, and they smiled back at me.
None of us knows the true lives of many around us. Let's try to resolve to pass along a smile or a word of kindness to all with whom we come in contact. A small, genuine act of love and kindness can make a huge difference in a life filled with despair and hopelessness. Let's resolve not to pass judgment on others. Let's love others as Christ loved us--unconditionally. Let's let others see Christ living in us and through us in our words, our actions, and in our smiles! You will never really know the good that smile may do!
Katie, Colton, Conner & Jeff
My soul mate, Jeff, and Katie, Colton and Conner, the three gifts from God that call me "Mom"
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Friday, January 13, 2012
Snow Days!!
Snow Days! You gotta love 'em! As a child, they were my favorite part of winter! The excitement among the children would begin building as an approaching front headed toward Nashville! The hallways at school would be buzzing with the rumors that it was "already snowing in Memphis", and that "Metro" (our public school system) was being dismissed early. I'm sure the teachers had a difficult time containing us in all the chaos of our perceived impending blizzards!
It seems as if we had a lot more snow back in those days. I remember in 1975, we missed almost a month of school due to snow and ice. (We ended up having to go longer days; some Saturday; and until mid-June!) The thoughts of snow days were seen in several different ways in my childhood home. My mother, a payroll accountant for Bell South, NEVER had a snow day. Payroll and bills had to be paid regardless of the weather. She dreaded any mention of snow because she did not drive in it--at all. If snow occurred, my father would have to drive her to and from her job in Green Hills, about twenty miles from our house. My father, a contractor, had houses to frame and workers to pay. Snow and hard wintery weather meant loss of hours and manpower. But he had the same love and excitement as me! He didn't seem to mind the missed work and wages.
I remember sitting in our kitchen, watching our old black and white television to see if "Snowbird" would be flying! I remember the music and the sounds on the newscast that alerted me that school would be closed! I remember the excitement in my stomach when my school closing was announced! Woo! Hoo!
So, the arrival of snow ushered in a ritualistic family adventure! My memories are so vivid! Daddy warming up his old truck. All three of us piling into the seat--covered up with quilts and afghans--as we began the tedious drive, taking Mother to work. We would leave before sunrise in order to avoid all the crazy snow drivers, and the darkness only added to the excitement. Daddy always wore a khaki colored jumpsuit with a wool cap with ear flaps. I always thought he looked so funny! Mom would have on the most ridiculous looking snow boots with a scarf around her hair. And me--I would still have on my flannel pajamas under neath my coat! I'm sure we were a sight! The only thing missing was a team of sled dogs, and we would have assumed the role of a perfect Arctic family! The roads were always icy, and we would slip and slide all the way. I remember Daddy's right arm instinctively coming across me during several tense moments because we never wore seat belts. It really was a different time!
After depositing my mother at work, Daddy and I would begin our long journey home. However, there was always a detour! Our snow days included a trip to Krispy Kreme for donuts! We would shuffle in and sit at the counter. (Yes, me in my pj's!) A warm cup of coffee for Daddy, and hot chocolate for me! I can still feel the warmth from that cocoa and the knowledge that I was my Daddy's little girl! That feeling warmed me to my toes then, and today, still warms my heart!
The rest of the day was ours! Snowball fights! Snowmen and snow angels. Sledding up and down our huge hill! Walking to my grandparents house for lunch--complete with snow cream! My grandfather joining us in sledding, and my grandmother watching and waving from the porch. An afternoon nap for me at their house, while Daddy went back across town to get my mother. My grandmother fixing supper for all of us--complete with a piping hot pan of her famous cornbread! The perfect ending to a perfect day!
Those are the snow days of my childhood. Of course, our family has created many new snow day rituals. A massive run on Kroger with any possibility of snow! Sledding, sledding and more sledding. Snowball fights! Snowmen and snow angels. Marshmallows roasting while warming up by the fire. Cookies and hot chocolate. Jigsaw puzzles, games and movies. There is still much excitement in the Sweet house over snow days!
So, today, as we celebrate our first snow day of the season here in Nashville, I am smiling. As a teacher, I realize I am now a day behind on my lesson plans. We will have much to do next week in order to cover what we missed today. But that's okay! We got a snow day! Woo! Hoo!
It seems as if we had a lot more snow back in those days. I remember in 1975, we missed almost a month of school due to snow and ice. (We ended up having to go longer days; some Saturday; and until mid-June!) The thoughts of snow days were seen in several different ways in my childhood home. My mother, a payroll accountant for Bell South, NEVER had a snow day. Payroll and bills had to be paid regardless of the weather. She dreaded any mention of snow because she did not drive in it--at all. If snow occurred, my father would have to drive her to and from her job in Green Hills, about twenty miles from our house. My father, a contractor, had houses to frame and workers to pay. Snow and hard wintery weather meant loss of hours and manpower. But he had the same love and excitement as me! He didn't seem to mind the missed work and wages.
I remember sitting in our kitchen, watching our old black and white television to see if "Snowbird" would be flying! I remember the music and the sounds on the newscast that alerted me that school would be closed! I remember the excitement in my stomach when my school closing was announced! Woo! Hoo!
So, the arrival of snow ushered in a ritualistic family adventure! My memories are so vivid! Daddy warming up his old truck. All three of us piling into the seat--covered up with quilts and afghans--as we began the tedious drive, taking Mother to work. We would leave before sunrise in order to avoid all the crazy snow drivers, and the darkness only added to the excitement. Daddy always wore a khaki colored jumpsuit with a wool cap with ear flaps. I always thought he looked so funny! Mom would have on the most ridiculous looking snow boots with a scarf around her hair. And me--I would still have on my flannel pajamas under neath my coat! I'm sure we were a sight! The only thing missing was a team of sled dogs, and we would have assumed the role of a perfect Arctic family! The roads were always icy, and we would slip and slide all the way. I remember Daddy's right arm instinctively coming across me during several tense moments because we never wore seat belts. It really was a different time!
After depositing my mother at work, Daddy and I would begin our long journey home. However, there was always a detour! Our snow days included a trip to Krispy Kreme for donuts! We would shuffle in and sit at the counter. (Yes, me in my pj's!) A warm cup of coffee for Daddy, and hot chocolate for me! I can still feel the warmth from that cocoa and the knowledge that I was my Daddy's little girl! That feeling warmed me to my toes then, and today, still warms my heart!
The rest of the day was ours! Snowball fights! Snowmen and snow angels. Sledding up and down our huge hill! Walking to my grandparents house for lunch--complete with snow cream! My grandfather joining us in sledding, and my grandmother watching and waving from the porch. An afternoon nap for me at their house, while Daddy went back across town to get my mother. My grandmother fixing supper for all of us--complete with a piping hot pan of her famous cornbread! The perfect ending to a perfect day!
Those are the snow days of my childhood. Of course, our family has created many new snow day rituals. A massive run on Kroger with any possibility of snow! Sledding, sledding and more sledding. Snowball fights! Snowmen and snow angels. Marshmallows roasting while warming up by the fire. Cookies and hot chocolate. Jigsaw puzzles, games and movies. There is still much excitement in the Sweet house over snow days!
So, today, as we celebrate our first snow day of the season here in Nashville, I am smiling. As a teacher, I realize I am now a day behind on my lesson plans. We will have much to do next week in order to cover what we missed today. But that's okay! We got a snow day! Woo! Hoo!
Sunday, January 8, 2012
January 8th
Throughout history, January 8th has held difference significances. In 1815, the famous Battle of New Orleans was fought. In 1935, a baby boy was born in Tupelo, Mississippi, and he went on to sing about hound dogs and jailhouses as the "king of rock and roll." In 1987, the Dow closed above 2,000 for the first time. In 2011, Representative Gabrielle Giffords was shot in a brutal massacre that left several innocent people dead in Arizona. Good things and bad things happen every day, and dates hold significances to different people for different reasons. Also--good and bad.
January 8th, 1992 holds a tremendous significance to me because that is the day that I lost my daughter. No, I didn't lose Katie to death. Not a disease. Not a horrible accident. Rather a diagnosis. Of course, Katie did not die with that diagnosis. But the child I believed she would be, did. The child for whom I had hoped. The child for whom I had dreams. The child for whom I had plans. That child died. The little girl that would grow up to be a cheerleader. The little girl that would one day be a beauty queen. The little girl that would crawl in my lap and hug my neck. The teenager daughter that would tell me her problems and get advice about boys. The young woman that would one day walk down the aisle on Jeff's arm wearing my dress. That child died that cold, January Wednesday in 1992. And a part of me did, as well.
Every year, I look back on that date, and I remember almost every detail of it. The feelings. The fear. The frustration. The disbelief. I recall the days leading up to the dreaded appointment at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital. I remember the look in my mother's eyes knowing her baby was about to endure the hurt of a lifetime. And my Jeff--trying to be strong and brave for both of us. Telling me everything was going to be okay behind a forced smile. Friends trying to be reassuring, but their words falling on deaf ears. And Katie--dressed in her typical precious girly outfit with her trademark hair bow. It was just another day for her. She looked at me smiling and kicking her feet in the car seat on the way to Vanderbilt. Little did she know that she was going for a battery of tests and evaluations. Tests that would leave her fussy and tired, but also with a label of "cerebral palsy" and "developmental delay."
Katie had not developed normally since her birth in 1990. She did not sit up correctly. She did not crawl. She did not coo. By ten months, she was still very much like a two or three month old baby. She had been involved with about six months of intensive physical, occupational and speech therapy. She had made tremendous strides, so as a new mother, I tried to tell myself that she was "catching up." In my heart, I still saw huge deficits, but I had to believe she was okay. The alternative thought was too painful.
Her evaluations began early, and she was poked and prodded for hours. She cried and looked to Jeff and me for comfort, but there was none to give. A test would be administered that needed an action as a result. But there would be not action from Katie. This went on for what seemed like hours. By lunch time, she was at her limit. I remember walking her and singing to her as I tried to comfort her. After a few more tests, we were assembled together with all of Katie's therapists and evaluators for the results. We were told to let them know if at any time during the meeting we needed some time to compose ourselves. Jeff and I braced ourselves for the life changing words that followed.
Cerebral Palsy and Developmental Delay. Was it fatal? Was it curable? Our questions rolled out like a freight train. Whatever the problem was, we would find the fix for it. I remember Jeff's devastation to the answer to his question about Katie being able to "catch up." No, she wouldn't catch up. She wouldn't ever do many things in life. She wouldn't ever talk. She wouldn't ever walk. She wouldn't ever go to normal school. She wouldn't ever be a normal child. She would never develop mentally to more than a four or five year old child.
I remember how "matter of fact" all of the doctors and therapists were in that meeting. There was a level of caring to a degree, but it was just a diagnosis to them. It was our world.
In the twenty years that have followed, our lives have changed drastically. Katie has grown and surpassed so much of what they said that day. She has touched everyone with whom she has come in contact in her life. She has been the biggest blessing in my life, and I thank God for her daily.
At times, I still mourn the daughter that I lost that day. But most days, I celebrate that daughter that I was given that day. I have never experienced many "normal" things with Katie, but the things that I do experience with her are the highlight of my life. Her smile can light up a room. Her laugh is contagious. Her unconditional love and care for others is remarkable. She has been the cement in our family, and she is the bond between all of us. She has taught her brothers the importance of compassion and unconditional love, and these traits are a key part of their lives.
The fellow families of children with special needs that we have known have enriched our lives. Katie and other children and adults with special needs have shown us so much in their strength; their determination, and their acceptance of the life they were given to live. Indeed, they have been some of our lives' greatest examples!
Many years ago, a dear friend, Angela, made a comment to me that I have held in my heart all these years. I was having the proverbial "pity party" that I tended to have often in those early years. I was very depressed over the overall future journey our family would travel. I commented that life was simply not fair, and God just did not care about us at all. She asked me to realize how lucky I was because Katie was guaranteed an eternity in Heaven. Katie does not know the difference between right and wrong, and she will always be like a little child in those ways. Angela mentioned that other children may grow up and forsake their relationship with the Lord. But not Katie! One day Katie would be made whole--and it would be for all eternity. And I surely want to be there for that!
Those thoughts have remained a fixture in my mind through all of the challenging times--and we've had plenty with Miss Katie! Any child does not come with a manual on how he needs to be raised. Raising a child with special needs is not an easy task. There are times when you feel like you just cannot handle it anymore. There are times when you feel like you are all alone in this world--and that no one understands. There are times when you just long for "normal"--although we have learned that "normal" is relative. Our "normal" just includes a lot of things that yours does not! God gave me Katie for a reason, and I'm still not sure why. I just know that she has made my life full. I know that I love the daughter that I have--and finally, I don't regret those things that I seemingly lost in that diagnosis meeting twenty years ago today.
So, after a twenty year journey, this date does not cut me like it did several years ago. I truly lost a child that day. The child for whom I had hoped. The child for whom I had dreams. The child for whom I had plans. But I gained a child that day. The child through whom God would give me hope. The child with whom God would grant new dreams. The child that God had planned for me. Today I truly know that God replaced the grief over a child lost, with peace over a child gained. He knew, and continues to know, the BIG PICTURE, and I just feel very blessed that He chose me to be Katie's mom!
January 8th, 1992 holds a tremendous significance to me because that is the day that I lost my daughter. No, I didn't lose Katie to death. Not a disease. Not a horrible accident. Rather a diagnosis. Of course, Katie did not die with that diagnosis. But the child I believed she would be, did. The child for whom I had hoped. The child for whom I had dreams. The child for whom I had plans. That child died. The little girl that would grow up to be a cheerleader. The little girl that would one day be a beauty queen. The little girl that would crawl in my lap and hug my neck. The teenager daughter that would tell me her problems and get advice about boys. The young woman that would one day walk down the aisle on Jeff's arm wearing my dress. That child died that cold, January Wednesday in 1992. And a part of me did, as well.
Every year, I look back on that date, and I remember almost every detail of it. The feelings. The fear. The frustration. The disbelief. I recall the days leading up to the dreaded appointment at Vanderbilt Children's Hospital. I remember the look in my mother's eyes knowing her baby was about to endure the hurt of a lifetime. And my Jeff--trying to be strong and brave for both of us. Telling me everything was going to be okay behind a forced smile. Friends trying to be reassuring, but their words falling on deaf ears. And Katie--dressed in her typical precious girly outfit with her trademark hair bow. It was just another day for her. She looked at me smiling and kicking her feet in the car seat on the way to Vanderbilt. Little did she know that she was going for a battery of tests and evaluations. Tests that would leave her fussy and tired, but also with a label of "cerebral palsy" and "developmental delay."
Katie had not developed normally since her birth in 1990. She did not sit up correctly. She did not crawl. She did not coo. By ten months, she was still very much like a two or three month old baby. She had been involved with about six months of intensive physical, occupational and speech therapy. She had made tremendous strides, so as a new mother, I tried to tell myself that she was "catching up." In my heart, I still saw huge deficits, but I had to believe she was okay. The alternative thought was too painful.
Her evaluations began early, and she was poked and prodded for hours. She cried and looked to Jeff and me for comfort, but there was none to give. A test would be administered that needed an action as a result. But there would be not action from Katie. This went on for what seemed like hours. By lunch time, she was at her limit. I remember walking her and singing to her as I tried to comfort her. After a few more tests, we were assembled together with all of Katie's therapists and evaluators for the results. We were told to let them know if at any time during the meeting we needed some time to compose ourselves. Jeff and I braced ourselves for the life changing words that followed.
Cerebral Palsy and Developmental Delay. Was it fatal? Was it curable? Our questions rolled out like a freight train. Whatever the problem was, we would find the fix for it. I remember Jeff's devastation to the answer to his question about Katie being able to "catch up." No, she wouldn't catch up. She wouldn't ever do many things in life. She wouldn't ever talk. She wouldn't ever walk. She wouldn't ever go to normal school. She wouldn't ever be a normal child. She would never develop mentally to more than a four or five year old child.
I remember how "matter of fact" all of the doctors and therapists were in that meeting. There was a level of caring to a degree, but it was just a diagnosis to them. It was our world.
In the twenty years that have followed, our lives have changed drastically. Katie has grown and surpassed so much of what they said that day. She has touched everyone with whom she has come in contact in her life. She has been the biggest blessing in my life, and I thank God for her daily.
At times, I still mourn the daughter that I lost that day. But most days, I celebrate that daughter that I was given that day. I have never experienced many "normal" things with Katie, but the things that I do experience with her are the highlight of my life. Her smile can light up a room. Her laugh is contagious. Her unconditional love and care for others is remarkable. She has been the cement in our family, and she is the bond between all of us. She has taught her brothers the importance of compassion and unconditional love, and these traits are a key part of their lives.
The fellow families of children with special needs that we have known have enriched our lives. Katie and other children and adults with special needs have shown us so much in their strength; their determination, and their acceptance of the life they were given to live. Indeed, they have been some of our lives' greatest examples!
Many years ago, a dear friend, Angela, made a comment to me that I have held in my heart all these years. I was having the proverbial "pity party" that I tended to have often in those early years. I was very depressed over the overall future journey our family would travel. I commented that life was simply not fair, and God just did not care about us at all. She asked me to realize how lucky I was because Katie was guaranteed an eternity in Heaven. Katie does not know the difference between right and wrong, and she will always be like a little child in those ways. Angela mentioned that other children may grow up and forsake their relationship with the Lord. But not Katie! One day Katie would be made whole--and it would be for all eternity. And I surely want to be there for that!
Those thoughts have remained a fixture in my mind through all of the challenging times--and we've had plenty with Miss Katie! Any child does not come with a manual on how he needs to be raised. Raising a child with special needs is not an easy task. There are times when you feel like you just cannot handle it anymore. There are times when you feel like you are all alone in this world--and that no one understands. There are times when you just long for "normal"--although we have learned that "normal" is relative. Our "normal" just includes a lot of things that yours does not! God gave me Katie for a reason, and I'm still not sure why. I just know that she has made my life full. I know that I love the daughter that I have--and finally, I don't regret those things that I seemingly lost in that diagnosis meeting twenty years ago today.
So, after a twenty year journey, this date does not cut me like it did several years ago. I truly lost a child that day. The child for whom I had hoped. The child for whom I had dreams. The child for whom I had plans. But I gained a child that day. The child through whom God would give me hope. The child with whom God would grant new dreams. The child that God had planned for me. Today I truly know that God replaced the grief over a child lost, with peace over a child gained. He knew, and continues to know, the BIG PICTURE, and I just feel very blessed that He chose me to be Katie's mom!
Thursday, January 5, 2012
F.I.P Resolution
In a recent teacher in-service, our school president, Mr. Perry, gave teachers some thoughts on some positive attributes to resolve to make part of our classes for the new semester, and throughout 2012. These ideas were based upon a recent documentary that he had viewed concerning the life of Steve Jobs. Mr. Jobs was the co-founder of APPLE computers. He died a few months ago, but at the time of his death, he was probably one of the wealthiest men in the world. He revolutionized the technological age of computers. He re-shaped the way we communicate throughout the world. In the documentary, a close friend talked about three attributes or characteristics that shaped Mr. Jobs into the man he was. Attributes that were apart from the wealth, the fame, the notoriety. Characteristics that were at the heart of who he was—and who he will be remembered to be.
In thinking back on Mr. Perry's words, I spoke with my classes about these qualities this week, as we begin a new semester--and for my seniors--their last semester of high school.
These characteristics can be seen in the acronym F.I.P. In thinking about these qualities, I posed several questions to my students this week. In honesty, I posed them to myself--and now to you:
FOCUS—We all need focus in our lives. Are you focused? If so, what makes you focused? If not, what do you need to do in order to have the necessary focus in your life?
Without focus, we are like an anchor-less ship on the ocean—being tossed back and forth. We have no goals, no vision. We drift through our lives without real purpose or zeal. As well, as Christians, there is a basic need for a focused relationship with God. If we have that focus, our lives can be more than we ever imagine. Without that focus, we may journey roads that may be less that perfect.
Are we leaders or followers? Do we allow our focus to be swayed by other people? Do we lose sight of our goals and plans based upon what others think, do, or feel? Why? How can we become more focused for the long haul?
INTEGRITY—What is integrity? We all know that it is good to be a “person of integrity.” But what does that mean? When we discussed this today in one of my classes, a student defined integrity as being “who you are when no one else is looking.” I like that. The real you. The "you" that lies down with you at night, and can close his eyes with a clear mind and conscience. The "you" that knows the difference in right and wrong, and chooses to do right--even in tough circumstances.
Integrity means having self-value; being a person of your word; following through with what you say you are going to do. Are you a person of integrity? Why, or why not?
PASSION—What is your passion? Passion drives us in our lives! Passion is what you LOVE to do! Passion is what you WANT to do or to be! Passion is your reason for being! Passions change in our lives. Our goals change. Our plans change. We change. Do you have a passion? If so, is it the right passion for your life? Does that passion drive you to be the best you can be?
For my seniors--including my son, Colton--they are nearing the end of their high school career. One chapter is coming to a swift end, while another one looms in the future. This can be an exciting, overwhelming, and bittersweet time in life. By maintaining—or getting—these characteristics in life, they can be as successful as Steve Jobs--maybe financially and famously. But more importantly, they can be successful as a person with a Christ-centered life--full of focus on the right things; integrity at all times; and passion for the important aspects of this life. My challenge to them was for them to incorporate one or all of these qualities into their lives in order to make the next few months the best and brightest of their high school years.
As adults, we are constantly finishing one chapter in our lives and beginning another. We are in the constant cycle of change in life. My challenge to myself and you is to instill these qualities into our lives daily. I want to focus on good things--positive things--goals and dreams. I want to be a person of integrity and value. I want to have a passion for the things that I love--music, teaching, family, travel! I want that passion to show in my actions; on my face; in my life! Wouldn't all of our lives be much better and more fulfilling if we applied these simple and basic concepts to our lives!
Resolve to F.I.P in 2012!! God Bless!
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