Live Laugh Love

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For well over five weeks now I have gone nowhere other than Methodist Hospital on the day of my husband’s surgery and Paragon Infusion Center for my injection of Prolia. My days are contained inside the rooms of my home and in the glory of my backyard. I watch the people in my neighborhood from my windows and smile when I hear their laughter. I teach lessons to eight young people from an upstairs bedroom with my computer and my phone depending on what resources they have for distance learning. I try to keep in touch with family and friends and news of the world. It might actually be a rather pleasant time for me were it not for the images of human suffering that I see from all over the world. I am seemingly untouched by Covid-19 in terms of my own physical well being but my heart is heavy with thoughts of those less fortunate.

I am comforted by the overwhelming kindness that I both observe and experience. For the most part the pandemic has brought out the best in people. The good is doing its best to overwhelm the bad. Sure we have incidents of hoarding, price gouging, selfishness but those are the outliers. The more usual response of people all over the world has been to help even when it endangers their own lives. Amazingly there are courageous individuals running into the maelstrom rather than away from it because they want to assist in saving lives. The heroes outnumber the villains exponentially with each person doing whatever he or she can to get us through this nightmare.

In many ways we have been stripped down to the essentials of living. Sure we are watching our televisions and ordering grocery deliveries to our front door, but there is an uncharacteristic quietness and slower pace all around us that allows us to discover more clearly what is most important about our lives. We see that everything that we need is found in our relationships with one another, not in our possessions.

I have become more acutely aware of my own good fortune. The environment in which I await the end of this trial is safe and inviting. If I had to stay here for an indeterminate time I could be quite content. Still, I note that for some the forced isolation is far from pleasant. I am certain that there souls struggling in environments that are unsafe, abusive, lacking in the basic necessities. I pray that the people in such situations will make through this ordeal as unscathed as possible. I pray that someone is looking out for their welfare just as my husband and I check on my aging father-in-law or communicate with our children and grandchildren. I’d like to think that everyone has someone on whom to lean, perhaps a caring teacher or a friend. 

I have not been particularly kind in my assessment of the political leaders of my country and my state during this outbreak. My criticisms have been sometimes brutal but of late I have come to the conclusion that engaging in commentaries about their failures is of no use in the present moment. This is not the time to be concerned with such things because what’s done is done. We have to deal with the situation as it is in the moment, not as we would have liked it to be. There will be plenty of time to analyze the mistakes and determine better plans for the future after the battle over the virus has been won. For now I choose to pray that everyone in charge will be guided by wisdom. I pray that the leaders of the world will understand the need to work together. We have to keep our eyes trained on the real enemy which is Covid-19.

This pandemic is the great equalizer. It knows no geographical boundaries or political philosophies. It does not differentiate between one race or another, religious believers or non-believers. It sees only our humanity stripped down to its most basic form. All of our titles and accomplishments and riches mean nothing to it. We are simply humans whose bodies are places for the virus to find a home. If only we might remember that when the danger finally passes. If only we will celebrate our common bonds that supersede the trivialities of difference that seem to create our problems. Life is what we must cherish and elevate because now we should see that when our backs are against the wall it is all that really matters.

We humans are a resilient lot. we have a way of overcoming challenges again and again. It is a time of uncertainty but the one thing of which we might all be sure is that in the end our ingenuity and common decency will prevail. It has before and it will in this instance. That is the thought that should be sustaining us until we are once again able to throw open our doors and invite the people we love back inside our homes. In the meantime live, laugh and love. It has always been what we were meant to do best. 

A Few Of My Favorite Things

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When I first began teaching I had a tendency to judge the quality of each work day by dwelling on the worst thing that had happened. I began to wonder if I was suited for such a profession and often felt overwhelmed. A wise educator who had been around the classroom block a time or two suggested that I instead create two columns in my mind, one that listed all of the things that had gone well and the other that listed those that were problematic. I was desperate to find a more optimistic view of my career so I tried her idea. I soon found that the good almost always outweighed the bad on any given day. I credit my long tenure in the field of education to being able to view my world from all the angles. I soon saw that in sum my students and I were doing far better than I had imagined when my standard of measurement included both pluses and minuses.

In these long and seemingly endless days of isolation and talk of the death of innocent souls and our economy it would be understandable to focus only on the negative. I’m seventy one years old, a member of the group most likely to have a difficult time if I contract Covid-19. Even aside from the virus my shelf life is reduced with each passing year. I’m at a stage at which I want to grab life with enthusiasm. I’m not ready to pack it in and become the little old lady in the house on the corner who only leaves home for groceries, doctor appointments, and church. My calendar was full until I began wiping it clean a few weeks ago. I might be really sad if I were not to think about this whole situation from a positive point of view.

I won’t be going to Texas A&M University to see my grandsons Andrew and Jack receive their class rings this coming weekend, but that’s alright because the main thing is that they are eligible for a ring from one of the finest universities in the country. Nobody will take that away from them and so we can still celebrate this momentous occasion with profound respect for their determination and hard work. In the grand scheme of their educational journey the ring day is but one small stop along the way. It is the entirety of their intellect and dedication to a goal that matters, and in that regard I find great joy.

I will not accompany my brothers and sisters-in-law to their cabin in Drake, Colorado this month as planned. We will not enjoy adventures in Rocky Mountain National Park or leisurely strolls in Estes Park. Our nights will not be filled with precious time together competing in games of Jokers and Marbles, but what we do have that nothing will ever take away is the love and kinship that has bound us together through all kinds of moments. Another spring will come and perhaps we will journey together again. In the meantime we will be content with phone calls and Zoom conferences and photos on Facebook. There is no disease strong enough to break our bonds, and when I contemplate the relationship we have I know that trips together are secondary to the love we share.

My trip to Scotland in early June is not looking too promising. I have serious doubts that such tours will take place at least until later in the summer. I was quite excited about the whole thing and had even begun preparing for the trip as far back as January when I learned that we had been moved from the waitlist to being participants in the group. As the date for that glorious vacation draws closer I admit to feeling sad, but I feel confident that we can make it happen in a year or so when all of the uncertainties of Covid-19 have subsided. I just have to be a little patient before that great day comes. 

In my period of isolation I made of list of glorious memories that I have enjoyed in the past. They are so numerous that it would be impossible to show them all but I decided to share a few of them and to encourage each of you to make one of those double lists in which you write down the most wonderful moments of your lifetime alongside a column listing your worries and concerns during the pandemic. It may help to see your many blessings actually listed. It may provide you with hope.

So here are just a few of my favorite things:

  1. I thought of riding my bicycle around Overbrook and singing my heart out with Lynda Barry  and Susan McKenna when I was seven years old
  2. I remembered the Friday nights at my Grandma Ulrich’s house when I celebrated family with all of my aunts, uncles and cousins.
  3. I felt the joy and security of growing up on Belmark Street and going to church and school at Mt. Carmel.
  4. I pictured my mother tucking me in every single night and ending each day with her professions of love for me and my brothers.
  5. I recall meeting my husband, Mike, and going on our first date and knowing even then that he was “the one.”
  6. I can still hear the cooing of my little baby girls, Maryellen and Catherine, as I held them in my arms for the first time. Is there ever any happiness better than that?
  7. I laugh as I think about our family camping trips in our striped canvas tent. Those were the best of times.
  8. I can still feel the joy that overcame me when each of my seven grandchildren were born. Over the ensuing years I have watched them grow into remarkable individuals.
  9. I vividly see the eager faces of each of the students who have been in my care. I rejoice in their successes when I hear of them and think of them as children of my own.
  10. I love the conversations, gatherings, and quiet moments with my very dear friends who have encouraged me and walked with me over the years.
  11. I am grateful that my mother showed me how to keep God in my life. He is my comfort and my strength through all.

Honestly Caring

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As I write this on Good Friday I’m filled with so many conflicting emotions much like everyone else. I am confused but determined, content with my own situation but frustrated, prone to laughter from dark humor and on the verge of tears from touching notifications. In other words my mind is grabbing onto every little bit of encouragement that it can find but a little voice in my head is also warning me not to get too excited too soon. I’m more than ready to get back to the old routines but concerned that jumping back in right away will be dangerous.

I can tell from reading posts on Facebook, tweets on Twitter, editorials from various pundits, reports from news agencies that pretty much everyone is in the same state of mind as I am. We’re all trying to keep a smile on our faces while hoping that nobody notices the sorrow in our eyes. Everyone looks so tired of making the best of the situation and yet we all soldier on, each in our own way, and that is what keeps me feeling so hopeful.

We humans may be a bit battered right now, some worse than others, but we have a wonderful ability to pull ourselves together to do whatever we need to do in the moment. Still, we have to be careful that we don’t attempt to be superhuman. Everyone has a breaking point and it’s really alright to give into it now and again. Each of us may have a moment or several moments in which we meltdown without warning. We may see our children losing it and acting uncharacteristically bratty. That’s when it’s time to take a deep breath and find ways to get those toxic feelings out of our systems.

There are constructive and destructive ways of dealing with our feelings but the one thing that is certain is that we should never just ignore them. We should be supportive of anyone that we know who is having a particularly difficult time. Maybe all we need do is just sit quietly beside them or maybe we allow them to voice all of their anger without judgement or attempts to assuage their emotions. If we really know and love someone we will understand whether they need a good laugh or a virtual hug or the freedom to vent.

At this point we probably all know someone who is exceedingly afraid or angry or annoyingly optimistic or calm. It’s important to remember that we each process the global grief that we are feeling in very different ways. I tend to appear to be a bastion of strength in difficult moments, which is true, but few see my breakdowns once the danger has passed. The feelings that we are experiencing are very real and important and if we watch carefully we will surely note that even our youngest children are reeling from them. Enough of us may have closeted ourselves away from Covid-19 to begin to flatten the curve of contagion but the curve of our feelings is growing exponentially with each passing day.

I got a surprise FaceTime call from my niece, Lorelai, last week. She is a delightfully vibrant, bright and honest child. Our conversation began with questions about a mathematics assignment that she had to complete, but eventually became a tour of her newly organized bedroom and her feelings. It was one of the happiest and healthiest encounters that I have enjoyed of late.

I learned that Lorelai had used most of her time away from school doing lessons online and cleaning her bedroom. She had done a remarkable job with each of these endeavors but admitted that without a live audience with her teachers it was sometimes difficult to grasp concepts. She joked that she was finding out that there is an alternative way of speaking the English language that is quite foreign to talking in Texan. She mentioned that in spite of the dramatic changes in her life she was feeling closer to and more understanding of her siblings. She concluded our little chat by showing me color samples of paint that she was considering for the walls of her bedroom. We both agreed that a lovely lilac color called Opera was a magnificent choice.

I felt so uplifted after talking with Loreali mostly because she is so real about her feelings. All too often we adults tend to hide behind veils of bravery when we really just want to scream like a little nephew of mine did when his mom made him wear a pair of tight fitting shorts that were uncomfortable and not his style. We don’t have to pretend how we are feeling nor should we be upset with others who are emoting in ways that feel uncomfortable to us.

I have a friend who has the most wonderful conversations with her little boy. They sit together and address his issues as they arise. Sometimes his toddler logic is confusing, perhaps because he himself is feeling uncertain. She is a model of patience with him and as a result together they get past all of the toxic moments with love.

Reach out with an open mind. It’s perhaps the most wonderful thing that we might do for one another right now. If you are in a very bad place, don’t hide. Find someone who will listen with compassion. Allow the tears or laughter or prayers or whatever helps to cleanse the toxins from your soul. We may all be in the same boat but some around us are in yachts while others are floating on wreckage. Be aware, be kind and be above all be honest.

To Do Or Not To Do?

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On the whole we humans have been mostly very good during our isolation from life. We’ve generally been up to the challenge of staying home to keep everyone as safe from Covid-19 as possible even when we believe that we ourselves are strong and healthy enough to overcome the dreaded virus.

Our response to the cause has reminded me of the first days of a new school year which always seem to be filled with great enthusiasm and good intentions. Everyone shows up in the beginning with new supplies and clothing and dedication. It’s easy to spot the bad eggs who may eventually be difficult because they seem to have cynical expressions permanently tattooed on their faces. They are few and far between so there is not much worry about them from the start. It’s easy to redirect one person when everyone else is agreeing to the rules and procedures.

It doesn’t take long for the students and teachers to settle into a mutually acceptable routine but invariably a few weeks down the road there are signs of trouble. Many of the homework assignments begin to look as though they have been half-heartedly completed. Those new clothes give way to sloppier versions of themselves. That kid who was worrisome on day one is causally fomenting a bit more unrest within the student body. Teachers have to work much harder to keep the interest and the magic alive. Everyone begins to look tired.

I see this same phenomenon happening in response to the Covid-19 pandemic. The novelty of staying home and waiting for the danger to pass is wearing thin. Many are growing more and more anxious to resume their lives and less and less inclined to believe that there is any sort of clear and present danger that requires the stringent measures that have so changed our lives. Many have begun to question whether we ever needed to hide behind closed doors to defeat the virus. As the numbers of sick and dying slow down across the globe the general resolve to do whatever it takes is turning into doubt that there ever was a problem as big as experts predicted. Many are beginning to shift their focus from listening to the public health professionals to paying more attention to politicians, pundits and prognosticators who tell them that the curative measures we have been following may in the end be worse than the virus.

I’ve noticed of late that people have become less and less inclined to want to read detailed scientific articles on the latest research into the pandemic. Instead they are more prone to enjoying jokes and happy photos. I suspect that this is a kind of coping mechanism that helps them, but the growing indifference to analyzing what is actually happening in the situation might lead to abrupt decisions that are not in the best interest of everyone. It’s important for each of us to stay as well informed as possible to protect ourselves and others no matter how painful it may be to learn about the facts.

The problem that we face is all the uncertainty. Nobody is able to predict what this virus is going to do. We don’t know enough about it yet. We have no idea whether it will simply burn itself out or return with a vengeance at a later date. We do not have proof that those who have recovered from Covid-19 are now immune, but we certainly hope they are. We have seen how devastating the virus can be in places like Italy, Spain, New York City but in some parts of the world it almost appears that the virus is absent. In spite of all of the data analysis, genetic mapping, and work to invent a vaccine nobody can speak about this disease with any degree of certitude and therein lies the greatest danger.

“To do or not to do?” has become our most important question. If we guess wrong millions may die from the virus. If we guess wrong millions may die from the ravages of an economic downturn. If we guess wrong both things may happen. It’s like playing a game of Russian Roulette with the entire populations of the world.

At the very moment when the stakes are so high too many have lost all interest in hearing the varying arguments for or against this tactic or that. Many want the freedom to decide for themselves and to hell with all of the experts with their dreary warnings. The shine of patience has worn thin. Getting back to the parks and the parties, the restaurants and the ball games, the jobs and the vacations, the normal way of doing things is screaming a siren call that is hard for many to ignore. After all some believe that our efforts amount to much ado about nothing.

I honestly don’t know what to think, but I keep reading and exploring all of the available information that I can find. For now my intent is to stay inside my home until there is more credible proof that resuming my usual routines will not be lethal to me, my family or my friends. I admittedly have the luxury of waiting this out because I am retired but I fully understand why others who still depend on jobs to maintain their households are anxious to resume their work. Nonetheless, we should proceed with caution.

We don’t need to send all of the children back to school for a few remaining weeks. I side with all of the teachers’ organizations that are urging that we continue the remote learning until the end of May and then give all students pass/fail reports and spend the summer convening via Zoom or other platforms to plan for the fall and a new beginning.

I also believe that those who have been effective working from home should continue to do so for the time being. The fewer people we put back onto the roadways and inside offices, the better. Instead, slowly bring back the people whose jobs require them to be present who have been unable to work for weeks but do so with extreme precautions.

My nephew has ninety five electricians working for him in critical jobs that have not ceased during the lockdown. Each day that they report they must undergo screening that includes checking their temperatures and asking them medical questions before they are allowed to enter the sites. They wear N95 masks while they perform their duties and they must regularly wash their hands at stations that have been set up in multiple locations. They are urged to change out of their work clothes before they enter their homes and wash the articles immediately so that they do not inadvertently bring disease to their families. So far the protocols have worked well. I suggest that we make such routines part of any attempts to get people back to work.

I keep hearing grumbles about rights and freedoms that are supposedly being taken away. To those who believe such things I would remind them that our rights are often curtailed for the good of society as a whole. We can win this war against the pandemic, but only if we remain cautious and willing to sacrifice. This will pass and hopefully we will be able to point with pride to the decisions that we made. In the meantime those that don’t need to leave their homes should stay put.

The Passing of a Brother

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I grew up on Belmark Street in southeast Houston in a neighborhood called Overbrook back in the nineteen fifties and sixties. We were a close knit community then. Many of us went to the same church and Catholic School, Mt. Carmel. People were relatively settled during that era so I generally had the same folks living around me from the time I was eight years old until I graduated from high school in 1966. Nonetheless I fondly remember a time when new family moved into a home one street over from ours.

The Hulin family immediately fascinated me because it was somewhat like my own in that it was not typical of the times. While I lived with a single parent mom, the Hulins lived with their father and grandmother. The two kids were Patrick and Sandy and to my delight they were close to me in age, in fact Pat or “Bud’ as his family called him was in the same grade as I was. My mom almost instantly became close to Pat and Sandy’s grandmother and so it wasn’t long before I was climbing the back fence to go visit the wonderful new people who had so pleasantly arrived in our little subdivision.

The Hulin family welcomed me with open arms and I felt so comfortable around them that I rather quickly developed little crush on Pat much like thirteen year olds are prone to do. He was a rather nice looking guy with a very sweet smile and a friendly nature. In the end however I decided that Pat might be better as a brother because I dreamed of his dad and my mom getting together and making us a family. I couldn’t think of anything nicer than having a fabulous brother like Pat and a real sister like Sandy. I even adored Pat’s grandmother so my fantasies included her as well.

I remember a summer just before my eighth grade year when Mr. Hulin took me swimming with Pat and Sandy at a club pool to which they belonged. When he learned that I was a nervous swimmer he worked patiently to help me improve my skills and Pat was my biggest cheerleader. Pat was literally the first young man my age around whom I felt totally at ease aside from my male cousins. He had a very calming presence and a way of making me feel relaxed and happy. I viewed him as a wonderful friend.

In the eighth grade Pat had a little romantic fling with one of my best mates. I was happy that they got together but I saw less and less of Pat after that. Once we both started high school our opportunities to get together seemed to be even more limited. We were all placed with a certain group of students who became somewhat like a small school within a school for all four years. I rarely had interactions with Pat during the academic day and once I got home I was always busy with studying.

Even though Pat and Sandy and the rest of their family were only a block away we slowly grew apart. I was too old to climb fences and never seemed to make the time to walk all the way around to the next block but I kept a very warm feeling about Pat in my heart because he and the Hulins had always been so hospitable and kind. Of course, I also set aside my fantasy that we would somehow become a family when I realized that my mom and Pat’s dad were not interested in being anything more than friends.

After high school I busied myself with new adventures at college. By the time I was nearing my twentieth birthday I had married my sweetheart Mike and moved away. I never heard much about Pat Hulin or his sister until the fiftieth reunion of my high school class of 1966. I saw Pat for the first time then and he was was as amiable as ever but not doing well health wise. I applauded his courage in dealing with the issues that were so obviously plaguing him but I worried because he appeared to be so unwell.

We only had a passing opportunity to greet each other. There was so much going on that night but I really wanted to know more about him and find out what he had been doing during all of those years that we had not seen each other. I still thought of what a wonderful brother he would have made but I knew it would have seemed silly to tell him so. Those were of course the fantastical dreams of a thirteen year old and not to be taken seriously so far down the road of life.

I’ve become Facebook friends with Pat’s sister Sandy over time and I have enjoyed seeing how well she is doing. It was with great sorrow that I recently read a post from her announcing that Pat had died. The tributes that members of our Class of ’66 have written all confirmed what I had always known about Pat Hulin. He was indeed a very sweet person and I believe a courageous one as well. I wish that the times were not so unusual because I would surely travel to participate in his funeral or memorial even though it would be in the next state over. It would be just like climbing the fence back when we were kids.

I have no doubt that Patrick Hulin is with the angels. He had earned his wings a long time ago when he was so gentlemanly and kind to a little girl who needed a good friend to be like a brother. I hope that he is enjoying his beautiful reward in heaven. He is someone who really deserves an eternity of happiness and good health.