Monthly Archives: November 2009

He Doesn’t Remember the Story

The family (not all, but some) cramped in the living room I’ve spent most of my Thanksgivings in over the years. The tiny room in the house my grandpa grew up in to a point. The house where his baby son died. Where his first wife died. Where his brother died. But where so many others lived.
It’s not in the best part of town any more, but it’s his and grandma’s, and they love it, and for this Thanksgiving, they were able to be home instead of in the nursing home where they’ve moved to because Grandpa’s minds slipping and Grandma can’t really get around on her own, but when she tried, when Grandpa went to the nursing home first and Grandma was in the house with my uncle, alone, it broke her heart.
So they’re in a nursing home together, but Saturday, they were out, and they were so excited and they looked so great, I almost cried because I was afraid they wouldn’t. Afraid all the family drama would have taken its toll. But it hasn’t. They’re still Grandma and Grandpa and they were there and they were happy and instead of letting the drama take center stage I asked Grandpa to tell me the story he loves to tell best. The story about him and Grandma and how they met.
But he couldn’t remember.
I wish I’d have immediately taken his hand and told him the story instead.
I can because he and Grandma have told it so many times.
How he and Gladys his first wife had one boy, then triplets, then one baby died and Gladys died an the OKC paper did the story about the young minister raising three boys on his own. How Grandma cut the story out of the paper and prayed for him and his boys and that God would send someone to take care of them.
Grandma loved to read. She was smart and she could’ve done anything she set her mind to. She sang in a trio that traveled the revival circuit.
And at one of those revivals, Grandpa saw her and knew immediately she was the one. He’d seen Grandma in a dream.
But he didn’t tell her because he didn’t want her to think he was crazy.
Instead he sent a letter to the woman Grandma was staying with asking for her advice and telling her under no circumstances to tell Grandma what he was asking about.
The woman didn’t talk to Grandma at all. Instead, she gave Grandma the letter.
A few months later Grandma and Grandpa were married. Grandma was 18 and the mother of three boys. God had certainly answered her prayer from all those years before. And now they have 8 children. My mother’s their only daughter.
Their story is amazing. The rest of it is just as miraculous, but it’s for another time.
Grandpa can’t remember the story, at least not right away. But he’s happy. And even though the family drama surrounds him and Grandma, I think they’re at peace, as it should be at Thanksgiving.

2 months into the program…

and we’ve completely changed our lifestyle. Credit cards are practically gone and we’re saving and living off cash.
It’s amazing how credit had taken over our lives,a nd we didn’t even realize it.
Since switching to cash our food bills have reduced drastically. No more quick Wal-Mart runs. It’s amazing how cash changes everything.
And how getting rid of credit opens your eyes.
This week my 19-yr-old daughter got a pre-approved personal loan mailer for up to $25K per year for school. From the bank who’d handled her guaranteed student loan.
Up to $25k per year.
She works at Starbucks.
And since we started the Dave Ramsey class, we hear TONS of these stories.
It’s like the banks got together and said what can we do to destroy the US economy and then set out to do just that. People are worried about terrorists. That pre-approved up to $25k loan was equivalent to a bomb. If DD would’ve filed the appropriate paper work instead of shredding the application, she’d be on the path to financial ruin for the sake of an education, and education can’t rescue you from that kind of debt. Ask all those kids who graduated with degrees last May and are working for less than $30k a year. It’s not worth it.

A prayer

Dear Lord,
Please help me to remember the good and work to fix the bad. If the bad can’t be fixed, help me find a way to shed it.
Please help me remember You Are In Control and You won’t give me more than I can handle.
Thank you,

LONG time!

I’m back. Well, as back as I can be.
This year’s been a struggle. Not sure exactly why, but I don’t feel like I have time to breathe. Maybe it’s that I’m not writing. Or maybe, it’s that I really don’t have time to breathe.
I think the big thing is deadline no longer means deadline.
I know that’s not the real case, but in the classroom, it absolutely is.
My kids for the most part can’t or won’t meet a deadline, and when they’re called on it, they stare at me blankly as if I’m the problem.
And seriously, with the almost across the board problem deadlines have become I’ve got to take some of the blame. But I don’t think I’m alone. I think that somewhere in the midst of all the educational reform deadline has ceased to be real to my students, and since I teach yearbook and newspaper, that’s a disaster.
Between that and TAKs writing, (AKA: worst writing ever!) I’m drowning.
I haven’t blogged.
I’m giving out individualized calendars tomorrow. I shouldn’t have to. My students should understand what’s expected simply from the multiple lists, signs and constant reminders. BUT they don’t. Fingers crossed the calendars work.