On Saturday evening the voice of Siri guided me through familiar territory as I drove over streets slicked by a mixture of dirt and precipitation. A fine mist coated my windshield making it difficult to drive. The route brought back dozens of memories as I traveled along the 610 Loop and exited at Long Drive and South Wayside. The synapses in my brain were popping with remembered stories as I drove across Griggs Road into Pine Valley, a neighborhood that had briefly been my home. I breezed past Telephone Road and looked to the right at the area where my first apartment had once stood. On down South Wayside I recalled visits to a school where I observed teachers as part of my college degree plan. A slight curve changed the road to 69th Street and I thought of shopping on Harrisburg Boulevard and long remembered trips for ice cream after visits to my grandmother’s house. I continued on past Canal Street and Navigation where I longed to make a left turn so that I might once again be at Grandma Ulrich’s home where my aunts and uncles and cousins would be gathered or should I say compressed inside a tiny space filled with so much love. Finally I turned onto Avenue R and rolled past a row of houses so much like the one that had protected my mother’s immigrant family as she and her seven siblings grew into adults. My journey that night was like a microcosm of my family history compressed into a half hour memoir. As I turned into the parking lot of Templo Bethel, my destination, I felt a spiritual kinship with the young man that I had come to honor. Continue reading “Architecture of God”
Category: Celebrations
Deck Us All
Deck us all with Boston Charlie,
Walla Walla, Wash., an’ Kalamazoo!
Nora’s freezin’ on the trolley,
Swaller dollar cauliflower alley-garoo!
Mike and I have a number of goofy holiday traditions. Among them is listening to his rousing rendition of Deck Us All With Boston Charlie, a satirical carol by cartoonist Walt Kelly sung to the tune of Deck the Halls. It’s a rather esoteric diddy that I certainly had never heard until I met my encyclopedic husband. Mike has a wealth of history and trivia inside his head and never fails to amuse and amaze me. This satirical song is but one of many of his hidden jewels of knowledge and it speaks to his tendency to add a bit of levity to any occasion. I am the saccharine half of our union and he is the one who rolls his eyes when things get too sappy. He keeps his feet firmly planted in reality and allows me to keep my belief that fairytales really do come true. Together we are a nice combination and continue to learn something from one another everyday. Continue reading “Deck Us All”
Be the Gift
I suspect that we have all become weary of the bad news that filters into our homes on a daily basis. We live in a twenty four seven news cycle and after a time the constant barrage of images of war, dissent, terrorism, poverty, and disease takes its toll on our psyches. While I’m not a believer in ignoring reality I think that too much negativity begins to drain away our very souls. At some point we need to remind ourselves that there is still much good in the world and that we are part of it. Dwelling constantly on evil and hardship is counterproductive. It tends to bring out our fears and depressions. Taken to its extreme we become immobilized and sometimes even quite ill. I’ve always found that the best cure when the blues begin to overtake me is to get out of my house and outside of my own comfort zone. Giving is a tradition in this season but it need not be only about extravagant gifts or finery. Sometimes the simplest gestures help us to realize just how wonderful the world really is and they certainly bring joy to others. Continue reading “Be the Gift”
Woman of Distinction
I have somehow been blessed with friends who are so outstanding that they both amaze and humble me. Among them are true warriors for justice and compassion, leaders who make the world a better place. They are rarely content to simply exist, they make a genuine difference wherever they may go. One such person is Aimee Harriramani who is celebrating the achievement of a grand dream on this very day. This morning she will graduate from Baylor College of Medicine as a Physician’s Assistant. Her journey has been hard fought as she balanced family responsibilities and studies with her usual determination and aplomb.
I first met Aimee several years ago when I was working at Paul Revere Middle School. We had won a grant to fund an after school program for our students and we had been searching for someone to design and manage the staffing and activities. Our goal was to find a creative and dedicated individual who was student centered and didn’t mind working strange hours. We had already spoken with a few candidates who quite obviously saw the job as a part time gig that they would work into their already very busy schedules. Their enthusiasm levels were far from what we were hoping to find. Then along came Aimee, a graduate of Harvard University, whose very demeanor displayed her altruistic spirit and a kind of missionary zeal to change the world one young person at a time. She was captivating and the principal and I both realized as we interviewed her that we had not only found the perfect person but someone who was exceptional. I thought that our school had surely been blessed. Little did I realize that eventually Aimee would become one of the most important people in my life.
Nothing about Aimee Harriramani disappointed either me or the principal of our school. We both realized as she so willingly took on the responsibilities of the afternoon program that she always considered what was best for our students regardless of how much extra time and effort she had to expend. She took her job quite seriously. The love that she spread was inspirational and best of all she and I began a friendship that would slowly but surely deepen.
I left Paul Revere Middle School for another job and for a time I lost contact with Aimee. Somehow work and all of the other things associated with living kept us both so busy. Luckily for me and for the students at my new school the principal decided to create a unique position that he called the Activities Coordinator. When he asked if I knew of anyone who possessed the kinds of talents that he was seeking I immediately thought of Aimee and crossed my fingers in the hopes that she would be available. As luck would have it, she was indeed at a point in her life where she was searching for something different and so she and I were once again reunited at work.
Aimee’s efforts were stunning. She computerized the scheduling and attendance for the many clubs and organizations that our students participated in after the school day had ended. She also planned and executed all of our special events and programs including the end of year graduation ceremony. Even when people and things went awry as they are so wont to do Aimee maintained a steady composure and never lost her sweet and genuine smile. I so admired her. I watched her build wonderful relationships with the students and she was smart enough to train them to help her. I so loved having her right next door to my office. She was a steadying force in the sometimes chaotic world of school life.
Sadly for us but happily for her, Aimee became pregnant with her first child and decided that she wanted to focus on being a mom and so she left our school. She and a group of teachers and counselors had created a little social group for themselves that they called the Rainbow Coalition. They met regularly for dinners and family gatherings. Happily they decided that I too needed to be part of their little family of like minds and so I have been able to stay in touch with Aimee as her family grew and she began to consider a dream that had been evolving in her mind for a number of years. She told us that she had applied to several schools so that she might become a physicians assistant and as she crossed her fingers so did we.
I never had any doubt that Aimee would be chosen. I had interviewed her before and I knew that there is something charismatic about her. She stands out from her peers. She has a distinct aura that speaks to her wisdom and her overwhelming intellect and compassion. When she learned that Baylor College of Medicine wanted her for their program I was probably as ecstatic as she was. I understood that she would be a rockstar and that so many people would eventually benefit from her abilities.
For two and half years Aimee has traveled back and forth to the Medical Center to attend classes and medical rotations. She has studied on the bus and late in the night. She managed her time so that she was still able to be a loving mother and wife and always good friend. She remained ever calm even when her responsibilities felt overwhelming. I followed vicariously through the months and years of sacrifice that she so brilliantly and willingly maintained. Finally she saw the light at the end of the tunnel and she and her cohort of thirty nine other souls were ready to leave the classroom and graduate into a very much needed profession.
My thoughts and prayers and congratulations are very much with Aimee Harirramani on this day. I feel her joy right down to my bones because I have watched her taking one step after another to reach this point. Just as I did when I first met her so long ago, I know without hesitation that she will be incredibly successful because she is so uniquely suited for the work that she will be doing. For her this is a true vocation and the good Lord has blessed her with the personality, the intelligence, and the will to be a very special caregiver for the physicians and the patients whom she will encounter.
If I were able to choose the person that I would most want to be when I grow up it would have to be Aimee Harriramani. I both admire and love her and thank God that he introduced me to her. She will bring her devotion and her skills to an even larger group of people now and all of us will be the better for having encountered her. Best of luck, Aimee! Celebrate with abandon because you have most assuredly earned our respect and our joy. We are all bursting with happiness and pride for you!
Happy Tears
If there is one time of year that is layered with emotions, it has to be Christmas. In between the constant reminders from retail establishments and the gatherings with our families the whole season is all about traditions that are personal and filled with sentiments of one kind or another. It’s so interesting to see the different ways that everyone deals with the holiday season. The whole event is built on memories, activities, and interactions with people. Christmas stirs the heart, sometimes in ways that are joyful and sometimes in those that are most painful.
I have a cousin who is struggling as the rest of us don our yuletide party clothes and celebrate this happy time of year. She lost her nephew this summer in a devastating accident that happened while he was experiencing his dream vacation. What should have been the time of his life turned into a nightmare. For my cousin the ragged sorrow of the tragedy is still too recent to forget. She has not had enough time to set her grieving for him to rest and the approaching holidays only make matters worse because her nephew was always a major player in her Christmas plans. Like so many who lose loved ones in the months before this lovely time of year, her feelings of hurt are still very raw. The routines that she usually follows are vivid reminders that someone that she so loved will no longer be there to celebrate with her.
I’ve been in her shoes before. I suspect that we all have. The wonder of this grand holiday is all too often tempered by heart wrenching loss. I have been blessed this year but I understand that life is fragile and my little bubble of happiness may burst at any moment. I try not to dwell too much on that reality. Instead my memories banks are spewing out remembrances of people who have been gone long enough that I am now able to smile at the thought of them. As I decorated my Christmas tree yesterday the ornaments that I pulled from the boxes told a history of my adult life and it was good. I indulged in my annual happy cry.
Tears are not always about sadness. Sometimes they actually flow whenever we recall people and moments that were exhilarating. That’s where my mind was yesterday, on the wonderful life that I have led. My cryfest usually begins when I see a tattered old handmade decoration featuring an ancient Christmas card and an image of our dog, Red, the best pet that anyone has ever had. It’s funny how that simple little cardboard treasure is the catalyst for a trip down memory lane. As the Christmas carols play in the background and I search for the perfect place for each ornament I walk back into Christmases past.
My dear departed friends, Egon and Marita, were as much a part of our family gatherings as my own brothers. They were citizens of the world who traveled extensively, never forgetting my love of all things Christmas. They brought me decorations from Holland, Germany, Mexico, Ireland and wherever they went. I so cherish those lovely trinkets that give my tree an international flare and remind me of how much bigger than life these two were. I still can’t quite believe that they are already gone. We used to speak of all of the things that we would do when we grew old together. I laughed and cried as I remembered the fun that we always had. Knowing them was priceless and I feel lucky that we crossed paths along the way.
My mother was like a child when it came to Christmas. She never had much when she was growing up. Her holidays were simple affairs mostly centered around a special meal. When she became an adult she was a bonafide Christmas elf. She loved all of the tinsel and the trappings and gave me dozens and dozens of Christmas ornaments and decorations. She was literally all aglow at this time of year. I can still see that great big smile of hers as she delighted in being able to bring happiness to everyone in her realm.
I have one ornament that seems to be a kind of orphan on my otherwise gorgeous tree. It is an ancient plastic angel that used to belong to my Grandma Ulrich. Its silver veneer is almost gone and it seems more appropriate for the garbage bin but I place it proudly on one of the branches each year because it reminds me of those crazy Christmas Eves that we used to have. My bachelor uncles purchased an aluminum tree for grandma and hung some of the worst ever ornaments on its metal branches. It was a travesty even then but I loved seeing it because it meant that we were going to have an evening like no other in the whole year. The huge extended Ulrich clan would gather in a tiny house barely bigger than my den and kitchen. We fought for chairs and heard only half of the conversations because the din of laughter overtook the room. That little angel that I now have witnessed some of the grandest parties in all of my life. She’ll be a part of my own collection of memories forever.
I have dozens and dozens of ornaments from fellow teachers and students. There are those from friends who knew how much I enjoy festooning my tree with loveliness. My children and grandchildren gave me some of my most interesting decorations, often made with their own hands. I still haven’t found anything to match the concrete orb that my son-in-law created for me in one of his college engineering classes but perhaps the hand crocheted pink bell from a student in my very first year of teaching comes close as well as a lovingly handmade item featuring images of the Scheffler boys.
I treasure the meaning behind each and every ornament that hangs from my tree. When I decorate it each December it is like a walk through my lifetime and at some point during the process the tears of gratitude and appreciation always flow like water works. I am reminded of the many people who have crossed my path and made me all the better with their presence. I suspect that in spite of all of the pomp and circumstance of the season the real meaning is found in those relationships that we developed along the way and in the love that we share.
There will be years when we experience pain that is fresh and too terrible to overcome like my cousin. In the grand scheme of things we will one day be grateful that we had people in our lives who meant so much to us that they burrowed inside our hearts. When we think of them even when they are gone we realize just how happy the memory of them makes us. That is the beauty of our humanity. We eventually heal and view our limited time with loved ones as the blessings that they are. We still cry for those who have left us but our tears are no longer salted with pain, rather they are glistening with unmitigated joy. Our feelings are forever stored in our minds to remind us again and again that overall life is really quite wonderful after all.
All It Takes Is A Little Love 