School's Out For Summer

Another year has passed. Wow. So hard to believe. I now have a 5th grader and a 3rd grader. I will be teaching one of my children next year, just not the one that I expected.

I have been teaching 5th grade science & social studies for the past 3 years. I remember my interview at Whigham 3 years ago, and the question was asked of me, what would be your favorite and least favorite subjects to teach. As a second grade teacher who loved seeing the 'light bulb' go off when my students 'got it' in reading, I was excited about hopefully moving to Whigham School and taking over a new 2nd grade position that would be opening up. My answer was, "I love teaching reading, and my least favorite subjects would be science and social studies." Of course I elaborated, but you get the general idea.

Well I got the transfer, and was so happy and excited. Then I got the phone call from my new principal saying that they wouldn't be getting a new 2nd grade position after all, and she needed me to teach 5th grade...science and social studies. Of course, I said, "Sure, whatever you need me to do!" But inside, I wasn't so sure. Now, three years later, I have grown to love those subjects and their importance to our lives and our students' lives. Our children need to know our history. They need to know the origins of our great country, the struggles we have endured, the ugly, the pretty...all of it. They need to know the progress we have made, the triumphs and mistakes we have made as a country, and how we are continuing to work to correct those mistakes. And how the reason we can be proud to be Americans is not because we are simply from "America," but because we do learn from our mistakes, and how our great constitution was designed in such a way that it can be amended to reflect the needs and desires of the majority of our voting population and the people that we elect to represent us. I appreciate our local community leaders and veterans who were more than eager to bring our nation's great history alive for our young students.

These three years have flown by. What I thought was my 'least favorite' became my favorite. I have been so excited about teaching Nathan about the War Between the States, cowboys, WWs I and II, and the tragic events of 9/11 and America's response. I won't get to do that in the classroom. But I will teach Nathan, just as I have since the day he was born.

I will, however, have the opportunity to teach my second son, Braxton. He is an awesome kid. Not perfect by any means, but as I prayed about this, I realized that Nathan will do fine in science and social studies - his favorite subjects. And I feel that Braxton would most benefit from mama right now. And now, I have the opportunity to go back to my original love, teaching children to read. And although I'm sad that I won't be in the classroom teaching the son that I thought I would be teaching, I am so excited about teaching the son that I will be teaching. But honestly, we will all be teaching each other for many years to come - those boys teach me more than they realize.

Dogs I Have Loved - Farrah

We who choose to surround ourselves with lives even more temporary than our own, live within a fragile circle, easily & often breached. Unable to accept its awful gaps, we still would live no other way. We cherish memory as the only certain immortality, never fully understanding the necessary plan.
Irving Townsend

Livi was with us the day after mine and Rick's first Christmas together as a married couple when that dear, sweet, little five week old puppy entered our lives; and she was with me seven years later when that same cherished puppy left us with only our many fond memories.

Some have said that the hardest part of pet ownership is the knowledge that you will one day have to say goodbye. I have found this statement to be not entirely true. The hardest part of pet ownership is the day you actually say goodbye, and the days that follow.

A heartsick four year old, at first inconsolable, moving on to quiet reflectiveness, then asking the impossible questions full of concern and sadness, the childlike voice incongruent with a depth of thought beyond its years.

The first time you return home to an empty house and the agony in the knowledge that she is gone forever; no wagging tails waiting to greet you, no furry kisses.

A two year old, with no concept of death and its finality, standing in the yard calling out for the beloved pet that will never return.

The things that used to annoy you; such as the incessant clawing at the back door, ruining the newly painted door, are the things you begin to miss the most. You realize that she was only trying to be near you. The silence is deafening.

The habits that you can't seem to break. Opening the back door first thing in the morning so she can go out. Saving scraps to share with her. Who ever thought that throwing away porkchop bones could fill you with such sadness?

Coming home from church on a Sunday morning, seeing a toy dumptruck out of the corner of your eye, and thinking it is her. The sinking feeling in your heart when you realize that it is not. The amazement at the human mind and its ability to see what it is desperate to see, even if only for a split second.

Staring at the food and water bowls that you can't seem to make yourself empty and put away. There is something comforting about looking at the little dent she left in her food the last time she ate. The realization that she probably never even took a sip of the fresh water that you poured for her minutes before her death.

But worst of all is the memory of her lying there on the ground motionless that will be forever engraved in my mind. Livi saying, "She's not moving, Mantha." Me whipping the car around, and running up to her hoping beyond all reasonable hope that she just happened to take a little rest for a minute and would hop up, tail wagging, once she heard my voice. All that hope was extinguished the moment I saw her little face. There was no blood, but her eyes told me she was gone. While Livi ran into the house to call Mama, I crouched down over that precious baby, hugging her and calling her name as she drew her final shuddering breaths. As Livi and I irrationally contemplated taking her to the vet, she gave one last little shudder and was still. My sweet little puppy was gone. We gently picked her up and took her to the back yard, not wanting Nathan to see her should Mama come back by. Mama, in her infinite wisdom and motherly nature, thought of this first and called Daddy to come over instead. Dale Jr. couldn't have gotten here faster. One look at that white truck coming around from the back of the park opened the floodgates. My daddy, my saving grace, was here to help. The man who can fix anything and make it all better was here. I could let go and cry now. Daddy would take care of everything. After checking for a pulse and confirming what we already knew, giving some much needed hugs and comforting words, he told us he would take care of her and give her a proper burial. And in spite of his painful back problems, he did. Thank you, Daddy. Thank you, Mama. And thank you, Livi. I know you all loved her as much as we did.

Night, night my sweet little "Fuh Fuh." You are sorely missed, and your passing has left our hearts broken into a million tiny pieces. Run free now in Doggie Heaven with your beloved Mahlie and Eli, while we remain here, wistfully remembering the three of you. How precious you were to us and how deeply you are missed.

Happy birthday Pepaw...May 3, 1915 - May 8, 1992

I have so many happy memories of my Memaw and Pepaw. I couldn't begin to describe how important they were to me and my sister as we grew up. They loved us. We were their only two grandchildren, and they spoiled us absolutely rotten. I remember Pepaw and his chicken farm, and how we used to love to see the biddies right after they hatched. And how he would let us play with them, and how he loved to sing in church. His favorite song was Higher Ground...and we sang it at his funeral. Pepaw was the first family member of mine that I loved to pass away. I remember his heart attack from a few months earlier, and the doctor saying that he wouldn't survive another one. I remember that the day before he died, our parents went to visit him and memaw...but as teenagers who thought that life lasted forever, my sister and I chose not to join them. I will regret that to my dying day. I remember my daddy waking me up that Sunday morning, telling me Pepaw was gone; his daddy was gone. That was the day that I grew up. Memaw coming to the house saying, "John just went to get gas...he'll be back any minute now." That's when I realized my Memaw, my love, was also changed forever. Life changed for us that day, but the memories from before, the love, the happiness, those memories will remain forever. There was a song that was popular at the time...called "Love, Me," by Collin Raye. It reminded me so much of my grandparents, and as we drove from the church to the cemetery to bury Pepaw, it played on the radio. I want to share those lyrics, and think about the love that was shared for many decades between my Memaw and my Pepaw. Happy birthday, Pepaw...hope to see you again one day...you have reached that "Higher Ground" that we all hope to reach one day. I love you.

I read a note my Grandma wrote back in 1923
Grandpa kept it in his coat, and he showed it once to me
He said, "Boy, you might not understand, but a long, long time ago,
Grandma's daddy didn't like me none, but I loved your Grandma so.

We had this crazy plan to meet and run away together
Get married in the first town we came to and live forever
But nailed to the tree where we were supposed to meet instead
I found this letter, and this is what it said :

"If you get there before I do
Don't give up on me
I'll meet you when my chores are through
I don't know how long I'll be

But I'm not gonna let you down
Darling wait and see
And between now and then
Til I see you again

I'll be loving you
Love, Me."

I read those words just hours before my Grandma passed away
In the doorway of the church where me and Grandpa stopped to pray
I know I've never seen him cry in all my fifteen years
But as he said these words to her, his eyes fill up with tears

"If you get there before I do
Don't give up on me
I'll meet you when my chores are through
I don't know how long I'll be

But I'm not gonna let you down
Darling wait and see
And between now and then
Til I see you again

I'll be loving you
Love, Me

Pepaw (John Henry Hurst) has two great-grandchildren who bear his name...Braxton John Harrell and Henry Oliver Bonham. He will forever be remembered by both of his granddaughters, and his name will live on through their 0ffspring. Braxton was named after both his great-grandfather and his grandfather, John Ronald Hurst. Livi and I were both pregnant at the same time in 2007. If Henry or Welles had've been a girl, their name would have been Lillian, after our Memaw. When Livi gave birth to Henry, I was so excited...because at the time, I didn't know Welles' sex. I was hoping I would get to use Lillian, but no such luck. Hopefully, through our stories, one of these kids will choose to use that name for one of their own children...such a beautiful name for such a beautiful woman.

California Comes to Cairo

As I mentioned before, my sister and her family live on the outskirts of San Francisco, California. My sister and her husband Steve were married in a beautiful ceremony at sunset on a schooner in Key West ten years ago. Instead of taking a second honeymoon to Italy, they chose to spend their tenth anniversary here..in rural southwest Georgia, where my sister and I grew up. I'm not saying those years were perfect, but they were something special, and we had so many good times then that we will never forget. From mama sending us to the field to find colorful arrowheads, to daddy cooling us off with a water hose on those hot summer days when he would come home on his lunch break, they both created rainbows that will forever permeate our memories of childhood. I'm so thankful that my sister chose to bring her husband and two children home to celebrate this milestone with us. Because...although I'm sure Italy is beautiful...WOW what architecture...what history...sometimes being around your own architecture and your own history can really be just what you needed.

We began our vacation at Wild Adventures in Valdosta, GA, which brought back memories of the excitement of Six Flags and Disney World from our childhood. Only this time, although Mama and Daddy are a little bit older, and Daddy has a heart bypass surgery under his belt, he still rode a few roller coasters with the grandkids, disregarding all the warnings telling him that this might not be a good idea. Nothing was going to stop him from enjoying this.

On the way home, we stopped at Publix because Mama wanted to get some sandwich fixings for supper. Little did we know that this was to be a 45 minute ordeal. Unbeknownst to us, Sue meant for this sandwich supper to be on a level that would be fit for a king. We had to find just the right kind of bread, just the right kind of cheese, and only the best of the best deli meat. And lets not forget the chips...Lays? Are you kidding me? Ha. These potatoes must have been hand chopped and baked, then delicately placed inside the bag one by one, only after their quality had been scrutinized by a specially qualified potato chip engineer. Sue would have only the best. And I must say, it was absolutely delicious. Mama brought out all of her cooking talents the few days that Livi was here. She made a delicious shrimp bisque that first night, and I swear I could eat that for every meal for the rest of my life and never get tired of it.

The next few days rushed by in a blur. We went to Mary Brogan's museum in Tallahassee where the kids had a blast looking at the dinosaur exhibit and playing with all of the hands-on stuff that they had there...but the best times were spent at home. It was so nice just to relax and let the kids play in the yard, riding the lawn mowers, eating watermelon, and just being kids. Just like we used to do. Well, I don't remember us riding the lawn mower, but then Daddy didn't have THREE of them for us to play on back then! But I do remember that one time when we raked the yard-getting every single bit of pine straw up-praying that would keep us from getting in trouble...that one time when Granny stayed with us when Mama and Daddy went out of town...when we were teenagers...and we...need I say more?