Say Goodbye to Christmas 2010

I seem to be having a hard time letting go of Christmas this year. Most years, come the end of December, I can hardly wait to pack up all the all the Xmas decor that is strewn about the house. This year I feel differently. As dusk settles in and the house darkens, I am still enjoying turning on the lights in the Dickens village and around the mantle and plugging in the tree. I don't want to pack away the Christmas dishes and candles quite yet or turn off the holiday music.

Target has no trouble packing up Christmas. Yesterday I went there to buy a rug for the kitchen and immediately learned Christmas had been replaced by Valentine's Day. I wandered about looking for the rug and rolled past the 50%-off Christmas shelves. Most years I would have walked on by, but not this year. Christmas nostalgia got the best of me. I found myself putting a rather hideous bargain $7 Santa Claus cookie jar in my cart. When I got it home, Harry said it was so ugly they should have given it away. He then asked when I would be packing up all the Christmas decorations and I told him probably sometime near Valentine's Day.

Two Christmases ago, we drove up the Cortez side of the Baja Peninsula to La Paz and spent Christmas Day on the beach. I remember thinking that I couldn't remember feeling so carefree and relaxed on Christmas. My decades on Abbott always included dinners that required all the leaves for my dinning room table. Last year we flew from Cabo to Sarasota for Christmas and, as always, Pat and Bill pampered us rotten. This year I have been running myself ragged on a gimpy knee and loving every frigging minute of it. I decorated the house, I shopped, I baked cookies, I wrapped presents, I cooked, I cleaned up, I cooked, I cleaned up, I shopped, I ..... My physical therapist got mad at me, telling me that after an hour or two on my feet, I need to sit down. I asked him "Who has time to sit down at Christmas?"

This year I had the joy of watching my granddaughter open her Christmas presents. We had not been together with Ivan and Joanna at Christmas for four years. We made homemade ravioli. My sister Julie invited all of us to her house on Christmas Day to make tamales. My sister Ardee, her husband John, my nephews, and my niece and her boyfriend came for dinner last night. Harry made us a delicious stracotto al vino rosso (well if you don't know, you don't need to know, right?) served with braised leeks, both from a new cookbook our daughter-in-law gave us for Christmas. I whipped up a rather delicious chocolate bundt cake and everything received rave reviews. New Year's Eve we are having friends over for a little party. The friends are doing the cooking. Brian is making a beef stew and Anne is creating one of her famous salads. Monday night Alexis' childhood friends Katie and Beth are coming for dinner. While Katie has been exiled to far-off St. Paul, Beth has been living and working in Madrid. She is bringing several Spanish foods for us to savor.

So, an exhausting and calorie-packed Christmas it has been for sure , but wonderful. I hate to see it end. But ... all good things ..... As children's author Dr. Suess said, "Don't cry because it's over, be glad it happened at all." I know Harry will be glad when I pack away that half-price Target cookie jar.

The Miracle of the Mittens and the Hat

As each year draws to a close, I become thoughtful about the hands which were dealt to us and to those we know and love over the past twelve months. When I ponder the years' events, I always conclude that I never, not in a million years, could have predicted or imagined the things that came to pass. This year is no exception. Life's unpredictability makes living both wonderful and terrifying.

Terrifying for me this year included Harry's accident, driving up the Baja, and Sara Palin threatening to become our future president. Wonderful for me included Harry's recovery, driving up the Baja, being back in my own home, re-uniting with family and friends, our trip back to Mexico, our road trip across the US, subbing again, experiencing the cold and snow of Minnesota, and the tanking of Palin's reality show.

Our friends and family members were hit with extreme challenges and tragedies over this past year, including deaths, surgeries and divorce. They also experienced events that brought them great joy and happiness. Relationships changed over the past year, as they always do. Some of the changes people experienced were for the better, some for the worse, and some relationships ended.

Having made it through six decades, I have also have begun to ponder just how much more time will be granted to me in this fun and scary world. I always think of when my mother was dying, she wanted a bit more time to enjoy her family. When Queen Elizabeth I was dying she stood for four days because she knew that when she took to her bed that it would be all over. This is our human condition. We often live as though our time on earth were endless. Human beings throughout history have taken to the idea of life everlasting in a place free of worldly woes. Religions that promise a heaven or a re-incarnation have had great appeal, helping people cope with the fear of death.

The Christian tradition of Advent taps also into the deep longing human beings have for miracles in their life experience. C. S. Lewis wrote a book about miracles which was one of my favorites back in college. Lewis believed that some things in life can never be explained rationally or logically. He believed in the mystery and spirituality of life. Miracles are part and parcel of most world religions.

People who know me well know my irrational and illogical tendencies, so it will be no wonder to them I loved Miracles by Lewis. My religion of choice would probably be mysticism which acknowledges the mysteries of life and the possibility of miracles. The mystics as a group have not been in the mainstream for a few centuries, having lost popularity with the rise of Christianity. The mystics tolerated and encouraged diversity of thought.

I am often teased about my frequent use of the word miracle. What I often call a miracle may in reality be described by most people as a lucky or unexpected turn of fate, or even just something nice that happened, like Harry finding my keys after I've looked all over for them and rushed off to work with his. None of this divine intervention stuff. I seem to find miracles happening most days. In fact, I experienced a little miracle today.

My neighbor and friend, Ann, called me this morning to tell me she had completed the applique I had requested her to sew on the mittens and hat which I had knitted for my granddaughter for Christmas. Ann wasn't very confident that she would have time to create and attach the little snowmen because she has so many projects going relating to her at-home business, but she said she would do her best. I waited as the days went by, hopeful. Down the hall she came today and knocked softly at the door. When she took out the mittens and hat for me to see I wanted to burst out "It's a ..." -- no, I stopped myself from sounding ridiculous. I settled for telling her how grateful and delighted I was that she had taken time from her crazy schedule to do this for me.

Whatever religious faith or lack thereof which one chooses in this life I believe to be an extremely personal matter. There have even been "scientific" studies that argue some people inherit a "faith gene", and that others do not. We are all on our own journeys, and I believe respect for people's beliefs or lack of belief makes for a better world. Humanity has justified atrocities throughout history in the name of its gods. Belief that your creed is the only or best creed has always led to suffering and death for those who believe differently. If there is a god, I prefer to believe in a god of miracles not dogma. I prefer mysticism, where there is acknowledgement of life's mysteries, to a religion that believes it has all the right answers.

May you find strength to withstand whatever challenges life will undoubtedly send your way this coming year; but more importantly, I hope things mystical and miraculous find their way to your door. Sometimes the mystical and miraculous knock quietly, so listen carefully and be ready to open the door and let them in.

knee replacement postponed

I went over the MRI of my knee with a doctor today and the good news is I may not need a knee replacement for 10 years or so. The other good news was that the doctor proceeded to drain nearly a cup of fluid off my knee and gave me a cortisone shot and knee brace specially designed for people with arthritic knee caps. I was dancing with joy as I left the doctor's office: a slow fox trot seemed appropriate. It has been a bit of a rough go the last few weeks but I should be on the mend presently. The knee has decreased in size and feels so much better already.

And as if that good news were not enough for one day, I bought People Magazine for the week on my way home from the doctor, and learned that Jane Fonda, age 73, is releasing a set of new low-impact exercise videos. So, what is so good about that you may ask? Well, Jane has not released an exercise video in 30 years and in those intervening years, she had hip and knee replacement surgery. Maybe all that high impact exercise took a toll on her body. She says she now feels like 50. She looks about fifty too, undoubtedly due to the plastic surgery she has had recently to take the wrinkles out of her neck and the bags from below her eyes. Jane also has a younger boyfriend: he's 68. (People magazine tells you everything!) I felt emboldened upon reading this story! There is hope for the old and infirm.

Lately, I would have settled for feeling 60 and looking 59. I had visions of myself soon needing a cane as I waited to have my knee replacement surgery scheduled for after Christmas. I have always had a tendency to become obsessed about the worst possible outcomes in life. (Ask my husband about how close he came to divorcing me as he brilliantly drove us home in the snowstorm last night!) I guess that then, when things don't turn out so badly, I can have a moment of euphoria.

I know knee replacement is no picnic. A dear friend of mine, Louise, had her knee replaced, and it was extremely difficult. Louise has always taken time to exercise and she worked extremely hard to recover. I have luckily been granted some time to prepare mentally and physically. Harry's mom, Olga, opted not to have her knees replaced and has become an invalid the last few years, although her mind is still sharp. I am similar to Olga in that becoming an invalid would make me very cranky.

Needless to say, my exercise regime went by the wayside these last few weeks. I felt fortunate just to be getting around at all. The orthopedic doctor told me yesterday that biking and thus spin class are not a good idea for someone with an arthritic knee cap, but swimming would be good. I did not think to ask about Pilates. Looks like I will have to invest in those expensive water shoes after all and get back to water aerobics. And I will, of course, be ordering Jane's video from Amazon.com. I can afford the videos, just wish my health insurance would pay for some plastic surgery.

*Harry is not much older than Jane's new boyfriend so I don't think I will need to replace him. Yet.

Death of the Black and White Boards

Back in the 70's when I started teaching, I regularly developed bursitis in my arm from writing on the blackboard day in and day out. Even though it hurt, I remember having a real sense of satisfaction as I wrote the schedule and the day's lessons on the board. I always used colored chalk, printing some things, using handwriting for other things, and drawing pictures. It was a creative effort and it took a good 30 minutes most days to get the board prepared for the day. I think the students appreciated my efforts. After school, I diligently washed all the boards with my pail of water and a sponge.

Towards the end of my 30-year career in Minneapolis, whiteboards began to replace blackboards, which were seen as messy and hard to clean. Mpls could not afford too many of these whiteboards, however, given the number of classrooms in the district and their legendary budgetary constraint. The markers alone one used to write on these boards were ten times more expensive than a box of chalk. I continued to have blackboards in most of my classrooms until I retired five years ago.

While subbing in Edina today, I was welcomed, or perhaps catapulted is the better word, into the 21st century. I learned that whiteboards are now passe and the young teachers most likely do not even know what a blackboard was. In the Edina Schools, where the money flows freely and technology is king, every classroom is now equipped with a smart board. You and your students don't write on blackboards or whiteboards anymore. Your computer projects lessons on a screen and the students interact with the constantly changing images. One can even write on the screen with some sort of magic pen. The writing somehow disappears when the teacher waves a magic wand. St. Louis Park, and I assume Minneapolis, do not have these devices in every classroom, but they probably should, or more correctly, would, if they could afford it.

The class I subbed in today consisted of elementary students with Down's Syndrome, autism, and retardation. The lesson plan written by the classroom teacher said the children were to begin their day sitting on the carpet in a group to have a calendar lesson, a math lesson, and a song. Fine, I thought, no sweat. Then as I read through the plan I realized I was to use the smart board for these lessons. I was about to panic when the wonderful para-professional, Kara, stepped up to bat for me. She must have seen my distress because she cheerfully asked: "Would you like me to teach the lessons for you?" I told her yes, that I was from the blackboard era. Kara taught the opening lessons using the smart-board as I sat watching with my eyes popping out of my head in true amazement.

When called on, the kids jumped up off the carpet, dashed to the computer-driven screen, and with their fingertips racing about, put objects on the screen in the correct order, added and subtracted numbers, rearranged the calendar, and much more. At times the kids used colored pens and wrote on the screen. The engagement of the students was striking. Kara even taught this old dog how to use the smart board. Proficient, no, but I was able to teach a reading lesson all by myself using the smart-board later in the morning when Sara had to take a student to music class.

I only taught a half day but it felt like a full day, or more. The room had students coming and going like clockwork, each with their own educational plan assisted by a team of para-professionals. The smart board was used frequently all day long in the classroom, along with computers and teacher-directed lessons using old-fashioned paper, pencils and books. Students used manipulative games and puzzles, listened to tapes with music, had snacks and took time-outs. I had no time to even pour a cup of coffee from my thermos, let alone drink it. I thought regular ed was tough, now I know what tough really is!

I was left alone with a first grader with Down's syndrome for a few minutes at one point in the morning. The para said upon leaving: "Whatever you do, don't let her escape from the room." The minute the para left the little girl began running playfully about the classroom, hoping I would chase her and hiding in places where it was hard to fish her out. At least she did not escape. An autistic boy to whom I taught a reading lesson lost his temper and began pounding on my arm with great force. At least he did't kick me in my arthritic knee! One little girl with seizure disorder kissed me and told me my hair was beautiful. (I knew going blond was the right choice.) The children were all very lovable but labor intensive. Those who do this sort of work everyday definitely have reserved for them one of those many rooms in heaven we have all heard about.

The regular teacher arrived back and I proudly told her I was feeling pretty darn smart after Sara taught me to use the smart board. I went on to tell her what a very busy, highly organized and challenging place this classroom was. She smiled and said it was indeed a challenge teaching these kids, but she loves them all so much. There is always more to teaching than technology.

*Special thanks to my sister, Julie, for encouraging me to sub for her in Edina where she teaches English as a second language. I am learning a lot!