The Big Swim

Today in one of my composition classes I charged them with interviewing another with the end result a biographical sketch. In one class, we had an odd number and the sweet girl who grabbed the short straw had to interview me.

Her first question was "who shaped who you are?"

I immediately teared up and apologized for being like I am, with all the tears ;).There are so many who have shaped me. But when I was able to speak again, I told her my Dad was strong and competitive and the best. And I told her Nyds was incredible. All those are understatements, by the way.

The best thing about the interview was what I learned about her. Some kiddos endure lives most of us couldn't fathom. She has had the run of it. But, you know what? She keeps swimming back to the surface. And I have no doubt she will continue to do just that.

Teaching is an interesting scene. Sometimes--no, more often than not--students inspire me, rather than the converse. I'm grateful I get to keep swimming up; as do they. And I will forever try to bring them up. As long as I can pull.

Toots

Back in the day, I got crossways with a fellow coach who thought storytelling was the most important event of all time. Storytelling is animatedly telling a children's story, which is remarkably silly, if you ask me. But I coached it; we placed nationally in it. This coach, however, took issue at one tournament when I had a student performing (quite well, I might add) with a book called "Walter the Farting Dog."

Karma is a bitch, my friends, because my dog Oscar is a gas machine. My guess is Oscar could out-do Walter.

I apologize to that former colleague. I set my course.😂

The Ride

I was just watching an old episode of "Ellen" with Melissa McCarthy as a guest. She was describing her youngest daughter (who apparently has lots of zip) on her Big Wheel.

The story drummed up memories I haven't had in a while. I had a Big Wheel called "Flower Power" (not by me) and I would drive it as fast as I could then slam on the brakes. The result was one flat side of the wheel. I drove that sucker around in a very bumpy fashion for years.

But then I also thought of that moment on the street where my Nanny and Papa lived, and where we lived for a time, and my Pops held onto the back of my bike when I was learning to ride. He let go, and I kept riding. I remember realizing he had let go and he was back down the road watching me ride. I was afraid. But I was free.

Isn't that the way? A bumpy ride, sometimes afraid, but, if you are lucky and can pedal and balance: free❤️

The Fear

Well, I've given this some thought. Obviously I have or I wouldn't be putting it in writing. It's the idea of fear. 

I've been watching a bit of old Letterman clips of late, and in one he admits to frequently being afraid before going before an audience. 

I ain't Dave (whom I love), but there wasn't a day I wasn't afraid before walking into the classroom. And even the years when we were winning again and again (not to sound like an a**hole), I was afraid every weekend we would never win another trophy. I didn't doubt the kids. They were brilliant and talented. I always doubted I hadn't done enough for them. 

But the fear made me work harder and strive beyond it. And I will never forget my buddy, David Watkins--a hero in his own right--one night at the end of his tourney (the toughest all around), handing me a bag of cookies from his sweet wife and saying "the climb is sometimes better than the top."

I had lived with fear of not living up to my predecessors. I know I did all right. Seeing Dave admit the fear gave me pause. I never think of these folks as mortals. But I suppose they lie awake as we do; as I am now. 

I'm grateful for kiddos who understand me and two predecessors who always made me feel like I did good stuff. And an assistant principal who always cracked up when I chilled my Diet Cokes on the roof outside of my classroom.

How's Aunt Katherine?

I don't know what brings these stories to mind, but they are worth repeating.

My dad has told me this story that is a favorite about my mom; and proof that I am her daughter. 

Back in the day, they were dining at the Shady Inn with another couple. Mom and Dad noticed that her Uncle Bob (her dad's brother) was dining with a woman who wasn't his wife.

Mom got steamed and, if you knew her, steaming was one of her talents. So, before they left the restaurant, Mom marched up to Uncle Bob's table and said, "Hi Uncle Bob. How's Aunt Katherine?" I'm not sure, but I don't believe she allowed him to answer. She took her big hairdo, collected Coach Rowe, and departed.

And the MINUTE they got home, she called her mother. You know those 1970s landlines burned up.

The Girl

Dad and Nyds married when I was seven. My mother and I were (am) a couple of small chested broads. Now, I don't want to embarrass my Nyds, but this happened.

The only boobies I'd seen were Nanny's when she would roll them up from her waist and put them in her bra. So it was a surprise to see real ones on a real person.

Not long after Nyds and Dad married I wandered into their bedroom. I was a brown eyed girl with a bad bowl cut.

Nydia had gotten a bunch of fetching gowns from a wedding shower. One happened to be pink and had this cutout in the middle. So I roll in, about boob-level, early one morning. One of her girls had popped out. She tells me she woke up to see a little brown eyed girl pointing in astonishment that this could happen.

And that is absolutely one of my favorite Nydia stories. And I love telling it. But it's payback for her letting me shave my eyebrows in 7th grade. 

So there.

Love you, Nyds. But govern those girls!

Mamma Mia

Ten years ago I went with two sets of friends at two different times to see "Mamma Mia." It became among my favorite movies.

The soundtrack I would run to.

The other day, my best friend Sarah and her girls and I went to see the sequel. It was good. There is a moment when Sophie (the Meryl Streep character's daughter) is about to christen her child. The Meryl character is dead. Spoiler alert.

Sophie says "I wish she was here."

At that moment, I lost it. 

Sarah looked at me and said, "things need to pick up here, because I am losing it."

I agreed.

It's something to have a best friend who cries when you do.

That's all.