Teacher
My son is a teacher, a university professor. I find this amazing because, in spite of my father and sister being teachers, I was not born with that ability. My efforts to teach my children piano met with disaster: crying, refusing to do as I instructed, and finally quitting after a half dozen lessons. Though I play the piano well, it does not translate to being a good piano teacher. When I understand or do things intuitively, I can’t conceive of other people not getting it, so I have no idea how to teach them. I repeat: I am not a teacher. Never have been. Never will be. My son, Chris, however, has been teaching me all his life. I first glimpsed his ability when he was only seven. His little sister was in hysterics one afternoon because I couldn’t...
Moving
My son has moved out. He’s twenty-nine, so it was time for him to go. Actually, though, he moved away years ago. To an out-of-state college for four years, then two years teaching school and getting a masters degree in yet another state. He came back home, but only for a couple months until he got married. Then he and his bride lived in a neighboring city while he continued his education. He has now earned that PhD and moved, along with his wife and five-month-old son, to a different state, where he’ll get to be the university professor. While they were loading their belongings onto a very large Hertz rental, we realized there was enough space to hold all of Chris’ boxes we had stored at our house. So the boxes left, as well. Books, artwork,...
Empty Nest
There was a time when I thought the term, empty nest, referred to a one-time occurrence, typically when children left the security of their parents’ home to move to a college dormitory. I have learned this is not so; the sense of loss can be felt many times by loving parents. I realize now that I first experienced it when my children moved from our constant companionship to go to preschool. Although I welcomed a few hours to myself, I couldn’t get them out of my mind, wondering if they were making friends and having a good time, worrying that they missed me. I eagerly picked them up each day, ready to resume our familiar routines, happy that they were gone only three hours each day. I felt the loss again when they started kindergarten. There was...
Electricity
I haven’t felt static electricity run through me in years. When I first learned about it as a kid, I was amazed and did everything in my power to bring on a shock. I discovered that department stores were the best places to make it happen. We would go to Hudson Belk and while my mother was looking at clothes, I would slide my feet on the carpeted floor, almost like cross-country skiing indoors, then touch a metal clothes rack or the metal trim on a display case. How the sparks would fly, with a flash of light and electric crackle, but more importantly, an electric current that would run up my arm. I thought it was so very cool to create electricity that I skied across the carpet over and over again. I apparently was an easily entertained child. Like I said,...
Krogging
There’s a brand new Kroger in my neighborhood, a beautiful store with a good variety of products and great location. It even has gas pumps. Will it become my grocery of choice? I doubt it. I’ve become spoiled by the Publix product offerings, customer service, and well-groomed employees. Kroger is a bit closer to home, so I’ll run in occasionally to grab a jug of milk or bag of chocolate, but for weekly shopping, it’s Publix for me. My decision was made one evening when I went to Kroger to buy a couple salmon filets. A group of teen boys was working the meat department. A friendly worker offered his help, but nearly freaked when I told him I wanted skin removed from my two filets. He called on another employee, only slightly older, for...
Stitches
I grew up watching my mother make clothes so I developed a passion for sewing at a young age. Mother taught me to use needle and thread to repair fabric, hold it together and give it form…all with stitches put in just the right places. Fun, pretty things were waiting to be made by the hands that wielded needle and thread. Little did I know that there were other uses for these tools. When I was four, my mother had surgery to remove her thyroid gland. I had no idea what thyroid was or what the word surgery meant. All I knew was that Mother wasn’t able to take us to Vacation Bible School so Debbie and I rode with the Farringtons. When class was over the first day, we all ran to the car. Lenny Farrington jumped in, then Billy and Bruce, and then my sister. I...
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