It’s that time of the year, albeit a bit later than usual. Thanksgiving is upon us once again.
I have come to grips with my late father’s view on why he always hated this time of year: the drop of the leaves and the bareness of the trees , in later years, reminded him off death. I understand that now.
I respected my father’s view, but at this point of my life, although I have experienced a lot of deaths, I have also chosen this time of the year to be thankful.
Another Thanksgiving means I am physically here, which is good. I have a husband and pup and family who love me and although we aren’t as young as we used to be, well, we are still here.
I am thankful to have found a second career in my lifetime , which I never though I would have the opportunity to do. They say that working with children is incredible, and I heartily agree. Although Jim and I don’t have any children, I am sure he feels like we do because of the stories I share with him when we are together. We chuckle and enjoy the antics. We have even met my students when we are out and about.
Kasia has taught me to persevere. We keep moving on together, through our aches and pains, and we take each day as it comes. There is a certain peace I get when I walk her, because I make it a point to observe what she is observing, although, agreed, I am at a little higher level. I try to appreciate every day with her.
Finally, I am thankful for you. Thanks for taking the time for reading my blog. Although I have not been writing on a daily basis, I am grateful for those of you who take the time to read my musings.
Once again I bring my Dad’s picture out in saluting all service personnel, past and current.
It is amazing living here, as we constantly have service personnel out and about with us in daily life. In the school where I am at, about seventy-five percent of the students are children of service personnel.
As I say, always, when crossing the path of one,”Thank you for your service.💙❤️.”
I remember a poem I had memorized in grammar school. It was ” October’s Party” by George Cooper.
October gave a party:
The leaves by hundreds came.
The Chestnuts, Oaks and Maples,
And leaves of every name.
The Sunshine spread a carpet,
And everything was grand.
Miss Weather led the dancing,
Professor Wind the band.
It always boggles my mind that I remember this poem, after memorizing it over 50 years ago. It’s probably in my head because October was a busy month in my life. Luca, my youngest godson, had his birthday yesterday. My both brothers have birthdays a week apart and today would have been my Dad’s 99th birthday. Dad and I had memorable Octobers with Mom in later years. When they were still able to travel, we would go to Black Moshannon state park and see the changing colors of the leaves. Once in a while, we’d squeeze in a Penn State football game. I remember the delight my Pop would have at getting a strawberry ice cream cone and a chocolate ice cream cone at the Penn State Creamery. Because no mixing of flavors was allowed, he’d put one cone upside down on the other and have his double dip cone the way HE wanted it.
Perhaps it’s the fact that I am back in school as a teacher with young children around me that takes me back. Classrooms are adorned in student’s artwork of cornstalks, pumpkins and the like. I make no apology for it.
After all, “October gave a party…” How lucky am I to still be around to see it.
….my Dad, a World War Two vet, especially this Memorial Day.
Down here at “Undisclosed Location”, aka “Amity”, our quiet little spot is invaded by the “summer people.” All of a sudden, you have to run and close your house windows for the visitors who insist on stinking up the air with their fire pits. It’s in the 70’s and they need a fire? We all have to suffer because they need a fire. To add insult to injury, there’s the visitors who I will kindly term as being 4 crayons short of an 8 Pack. They get the wettest, greenest sticks and try to burn them. When they do get some degree of success, the stench really is bad. Thus starts the unofficial start of summer.
How sad the true meaning of Memorial Day is lost to most people. Here’s to all who gave all, those who served and those currently serving.