Post Christmas

I'm getting ready to take Dad back to Jefferson City to his assisted living apartment with, of course, very conflicted feelings. Part of me just wants him to move up here. I realize that would take some MAJOR adjustments in my lifestyle and commitments. I am already OVER committed. Could I manage my own stress and that of my family with an additional member? Of course, driving to Jeff City every Saturday has it's own version of stress. And, having Dad here might take some load off of my brother who has plenty on his plate.

As my dad likes to say, "everyone wants to live forever, but no one wants to get old." How true. We, as a society, are not ready for the demands and the needs of our rapidly aging population. Of course, how old age looks in 10 or 20 years will be quite different as the baby boomer generation complete with Ipads and cell phones and electric cards becomes 70, 80, and 90.

Christmas

It's Christmas Eve. I am always nostalgic about the holiday. As most of us do, I remember Christmases past. Pajamas from Grandmother Wright. The Missouri cedars that we used as Christmas trees until Mom protested and we got a pine (and then Phil met Sue and we got an artificial one). They were so fragrant (and prickly). The "kitchen cabinet" Santa brought me Christmas Day evening, made by my dad's friend, Jim Clark. The lights on Anchor Mill in the shape of a star. Christmas pageants at school Singing Hear Comes Santa Claus as a local boy dressed up as Santa distributed bags of candy, nuts, and oranges to the excited kids. Midnight Mass at Sacred Heart, bringing Connie and then Kenny with us. Turkey for dinner. Friends, family, love.

I always wish at this time of year for the Big Christmases that I hear others talk about where all the aunts, uncles, and cousins get together for food and games. Thinking back, though, that was not a part of my childhood either. We lived far from our cousins, aunts, and uncles and it was always us, plus my two grandmothers.

I love Christmas. Or at least the idea of Christmas. When the kids were younger, I would get so stressed by the expense and the busyness of the season and although there is still some of that, I am able to enjoy the holiday a little more. I miss the little ones with their excited anticipation, but this is nice too. Three young adult children who can share in the season. My dad is here, too, and that is nice, although it is bittersweet as well.

I made some gingersnaps today. I don't think I have made any gingersnaps since high school home economics where I made enough to feed the 11th Army. A post by my friend Vicki gave me the idea and turned out to be delicious and they filled the house with a delightful aroma.

I'm nervous about the new year. I have no idea what will become of us really. I'm not sure how we can deal with Bill's job loss and with my dad's increasing fragility. I'm trying to stay positive, something that is generally easy for me, despite teasing from my brothers and others about my pollyanna nature. I'm trying to prepare while being positive.

My class of AP US History is going well. I'm enjoying the technology I'm using and every day I read blogs and tweets that challenge my thinking and improve my teaching (I hope). I get envious of some of my twitter friends. . .Angela Cunningham who has her course so organized that it's almost unbelievable and the other teachers who seem to be able to inspire critical thinking with their creative lessons and high expectations. They challenge me each day to be better.

Patron Saints

On a blog I follow, the author talks about her "patron saints". I decided to think about that and I have come up with a tentative list.
Winston Churchill whose eloquence gave hope to a beleaguered people.
Abraham Lincoln who grew into the moral conviction that slavery was wrong and the Union must be preserved.
Harry Truman who said what he meant and did what he said.
Maran Wright Edelman whose passion for justice and children inspires me to never give up or in.
St John Baptist de la Salle who inspires some of th best teachers I know.
Amela Earhardt who followed a dream.

Playgrounds

It occurred to me today as I was walking back from celebrating Mass with our students, across the hill that separates St. Regis and O'Hara, that playgrounds are made up of hardscabble dirt and random weeds that somehow manage to hang tenuously on to life and that these playgrounds are the same whether one is playing soccer in a barrio of south L.A. or basketball in Zimbabwe. It reminded me again of the commonality that we share with all people. Children play. In Africa, In Latin America, In Europe, In North America.

Yard Work

I am not sure how I find time for yard work. Dad moved into assisted living yesterday. He's not completely happy about his new circumstances, but he is adapting better than I had hoped. I wish, for the 100th time at least, that he lived here or that I lived in Jefferson City. It's so tough, running between my family here, my students here, and my dad there. They all need me in some differing kinds of degrees. Last night I made it home by 11:30. I have had a peaceful day today, partly because I worked in the yard. There I don't have my cell, my iPad or my laptop. I can chop and dig and spread; and, in a few days I can actually see the results of my work in the new grass that springs up (if I remember to water).

Thank you Steve Jobs

Thank you Steve Jobs for your passion, your creativity, and your out of the box thinking. You have inspired millions, including some future "Steve Jobs" who has yet to change the world. For your parents who encouraged you and your family who sustained you, thoughts and prayers.

Revolution.

What a great discussion today in 3rd hour (and to a lesser extent in 6th) about Jefferson's "all men are created equal."

Lincoln's words about the Declaration: "Ibelieve the entire records of the world, from the date of the Declaration of Independence up to within three years ago, may be searched in vain for one single affirmation, from one single man, that the negro was not included in the Declaration of Independence. I think I may defy Judge Douglas to show that he ever said so, that Washington ever said so, that any President ever said so, that any member of Congress ever said so…. And I will remind Judge Douglas and this audience, that while Mr. Jefferson was the owner of slaves, as undoubtedly he was, in speaking upon this very subject, he used the strong language that "he trembled for his country when he remembered that God was just."

Jefferson's words always inspire controversy. How could a slaveowner write these words? Was Jefferson a hypocrite? Was he a product of his time? As I explained to the class, the discussion illustrates the complicate nature of race in American history from the very beginning. To understand Jefferson is to understand, in some measure, the issue of race and the role it has played in shaping our nation.