The Heart Grows Fonder

Usually going back to school after several days away stresses me out, and I toss and turn fitfully the night before my return. That was not the case last night, though. I slept quite soundly, confident that I was prepared for my reentry, despite having to tweak my lessons from past years. And the day went very well-- I was happy to see the kids, and they seemed pleased to have me back. Plus, the feedback from the substitutes was all positive; something unheard of, especially in recent years. I felt more comfortable in the job than I have so far this year, which is weird but certainly not unwelcome.

Sweet Home

Bread is rising.
Greens are blanched.
Garlic is roasted.
Peppers are drying.
Beans are soaked.
Tests are graded.
Lessons are planned.
Fire is started.

And there is still a lot more to catch up on, but it sure is good to be home.

Calling In

We breezed home from Buffalo in record time today. In fact, we were about 5 miles from home before the idea of heavy traffic or a delay even occurred to me. "Hey!" I turned to Heidi, "Can you believe it? The roads have been--"

Just then the map app blinked and blue turned to yellow as I hit the brakes for the first time in our whole trip.

But we still made it back in under 7 hours!

One Final Event

For loved ones, the details and demands of planning any funeral are likely to be emotionally exhausting. But a full-on traditional, Buffalo-style Catholic funeral is even more so, if possible.

In the past week, we have planned and attended three sessions of open-casket visiting hours, a full funeral mass, a procession to the cemetery, a graveside service, and finally, a memorial celebration for 30 people at Heidi's dad's favorite restaurant tonight. 

And, as much as everyone is looking forward to returning to their everyday lives, getting some rest, and beginning to navigate a new normal without Gary, when everything is all over? It's really over. 

And that will be hard.

Hatters Gonna Hat, Part 2

Coincidentally the only hat I brought with me to Buffalo has a similar origin story to the one I wrote about yesterday, which my mother-in-law gave to me. When my high school friend, Amy, was in town back in the spring, she too presented me with a handmade cap. “I thought you would like this,” she explained, and I did. 

“I made it for myself,” she continued, “but I hated it.”

I laughed and placed it on my head so that she could snap a photo. Afterwards, it sat out by itself, because all the winter gear had already been stored away for the season. And when I packed for this trip, the cold weather stuff was still in the attic, but for the gloves in the jacket pockets and my hand-me-down hat from Amy, so I put it on and headed north.

And I know that even though they didn’t start out that way, both hats were clearly meant for me.

Hatters Gonna Hat

"Did you see the hat I made you?" Heidi's mom asked when I had been here a day. 

I had seen the floppy green knit beanie, and I had tried it on, too. It was soft and comfortable, and I would have worn it, but for the warm-ish weather. 

"Yes! Thank you," I replied. "I love it!"

"Well good," she nodded, "because it looked terrible on me!"

The Show Must Go On

“Don’t you get bereavement time?” Heidi’s mother asked incredulously as Heidi scrambled to finish sub plans and grades for her 4 different preps and 5 classes in between appointments with the funeral director and the cemetery and after 2 days of visiting hours at the funeral home.

“Well, we get personal leave,” Heidi explained, “but the work is still there. The kids keep coming to school, whether we are there or not.”

But really, her mom should have understood, after being married to the chief of umpires. For Heidi’s dad, there was no such thing as a real summer vacation for 39 years. Every where he went, especially after the advent of mobile phones, he would be on call and responsible for making sure some of the 10,000 games he assigned a year were staffed. And if it was raining in Buffalo? We knew about it wherever we happened to be in the country.