I'd Like to Thank the Academy...

This is the last required, graded blog post. I've enjoyed blogging much more than I thought I would, and I'll probably continue it, but to a lesser degree. It's been somewhat difficult to blog on a schedule, and it may work better for me to just come here as the mood strikes me or as I encounter situations that make for a good post.

I want to thank everyone who read this and offered feedback. I appreciate my classmates and terrific Comp professor, and my family for getting me through another term. This was a tough one...

I wish the best to all my peers in your future classes. I enjoyed your blogs very much! May your final grades be stellar, and may you achieve nothing but success as you continue your educational journeys. I hope our paths cross again.

Peace,
Rachel T

Age: It Ain't Nothin' But a Number...

2010 is a year of milestones for my family... A few examples: my husband will be earning his Bachelor's degree in May and turning 50 this fall, my oldest child is turning 21 in just a couple of weeks here (!) and my youngest, in contrast, just turned ten (double digits!) in January.

Yup, it's a big year for us, in a lot of ways. Time marches on, with no regard for how I feel about it, or if I'm ready to have a daughter who can legally order a cocktail.

It makes me ponder age, and aging. It makes me wish I'd accomplished more at this point in my life, but it also makes me proud of what I have managed to do...

This term at school, my third, is winding down fast. (Six classes down, and only 25 to go!) I worked harder this term than I did the first two, and it's only going to get harder from here. Am I up for it? Yeah. I am.

I have to be.

Time marches on and I'm not getting younger. In a lot of ways I'm happier with myself and more comfortable in my skin than I've ever been. I embrace so many of the qualities about myself that I used to dislike or deny, and I've left behind mountains of baggage and bitterness. I'm a very nice and caring person, and a loyal friend... I'm also a sensitive, overly chatty, anxious, unorganized dingbat. That's just me, and that's ok. I won't ever be Martha Stewart, but as long as I consider myself a work in progress and don't lose my insight, it doesn't matter how old I am. Because what's even scarier than aging is stagnating and losing my open mind. So I will continue to evolve and grow.

Maybe I'll even do a tequila shot with my daughter to celebrate her 21st...

Wasting time, for the Best of Reasons...

So... in my Anatomy and Physiology class this past few days we've been discussing how scents (pleasant and unpleasant) can trigger emotions by bringing back memories of places or people or events. Fascinating stuff! Some of my classmates have some really interesting stories of good and bad memories triggered by certain smells, and I've really enjoyed the conversation. But, because I'm me, that wasn't enough and I decided to look a little deeper into the phenomenon.

I got to thinking about music and how it has the power to bring me back to a moment in time. Tricia Yearwood sang, years ago, about how "the song remembers when", and she is so right. There is absolutely music that can, in an instant, put me in a bad place. But there are also songs that remind me of times in my life when I was strong and independent (because I had to be, not by choice), and I'd sing in the car while waving my hand around in that nutty Mariah Carey "I have soul" salute, and I didn't care who saw or how embarrassed my children were... and there is music that I'd heard my whole life, over and over and over, that never made a blip on my radar until I met my husband who listened to music of a different era than I did, and got me to listen to those "moldy oldies" with fresh ears... ("September", for example... awesome song! Means a lot more to me since T came along...)

Powerful stuff.

I should be a basket case right now, because I have only ten days to compose an original ten-page paper on the skin and risk factors for skin cancer (yawn!!!), which I have yet to actually start, plus edit and revise my other paper on Asperger's Syndrome, and today would have been a great day to make a dent in the workload. Have I done anything even remotely academic today? Um, no... and I'll pay for it later.

But I've spent the last few hours just sitting here with my ear buds in, listening to my freshly purchased iTunes music cranked up way, way too loud and revisiting 2003 with my old friends, 3rd Eye Blind, and loving every second of it. I think this was just what I needed to do tonight: Reflect on the past and marvel at far I've come since that time.

How I love my life...

"A Blog About Nothing"

Remember Seinfeld? The "show about nothing"? Remember how danged funny that show was? This blog isn't funny, like a Seinfeld episode, but it's about "nothing" and how "nothing" made an impression on me.

Tonight I was at my folks' house with the hubby and two younger kids (hereafter referred to as "The Littles",) where we also met up with my older daughter and her boyfriend to have some Jewish/Greek soul food and catch up.

The food was good, the conversation was relaxed, and dinner was uneventful... in a good way. My firstborn and I have not always had an easy time of things, and rebuilding is never easy, but the tension that has sat between us for so long like a lead weight seems to be gone. The resentment she felt toward The Littles, gone. Peace and harmony? Present and accounted for.

How nice!

Eventually, I excused myself from the table and hid in a bedroom for an hour to go to class. But the whole time I was gone, I kept hearing maniacal laughter and chatter from the kitchen. Like, crazy laughter! What was that about? So, after seminar, I went back to see what was up.

There at the table sat my three children and my mother, talking about things like the kids' early childhood imaginary friends, arm flab, baby birth weights, ground nuts (don't ask), and other random topics that, when boiled down, amount to nothing really, but they were cracking up. Cracking up! The best part of all? My mom saying to me, twice, "I have never seen these kids laugh so much, ever!"

That's the best thing I could have heard. It made my day... I may not have been in the room for the "festivities" but my mother was enjoying her grandchildren, my children were enjoying each other, my dad and husband were off in another room doing their thing with the computers (and enjoying that), and all was right in the world.

It was nothing, seriously! It was just normalcy, to most people... but life hasn't always played out this way for me, so this evening of peace, silliness and laughter spanning the generations made this a Very Good Day.

So, my conclusion? Treasure the nothingness, the absence of drama. It's the best thing ever. Even if it's not a "Seinfeld" episode!

Valentine's Day

Yes.

I recognize that Valentine's Day is a "Hallmark holiday" and that we, as a society, are being manipulated and bullied into buying cards, flowers, and chocolates to prove to our loved ones that we care. I recognize that, and I'm totally okay with it. I love it anyway.

As a big fan of capitalism, I'm not offended in the least that businesses market the heck out of their "merchandise of love". And for all the naysayers who dismiss Valentine's Day because "you should show your love every day, and shouldn't need a manufactured holiday to let your significant other know how you feel", well, sure! If the world was perfect and full of rainbows and sunshine, and the economy was strong, and we had no pressures of everyday life, we'd all probably be better at recognizing our blessings. But life gets busy, and stressful. We get caught up in our obligations, and sometimes a tap on the shoulder in the form of a Hallmark holiday isn't necessarily a bad thing.

So this week, I'm using this forum as a love letter to my husband, Frank, to my children, Juleigh, Sierra, and MarcE, my stepsons Sean and Bryan, to my folks and to my sister Judy, to Hannah and to my awesome extended family, my dear friend Jen, and terrific co-worker Lisa. I want to be able to say that you all know how important you are and how much I count on your support, but maybe I've dropped the ball and I need Valentine's Day to remind me to say thank you, and I love you all. I'll try to do a better job of letting the people in my circle know how much I appreciate them.

That's a worthy goal...

But in case I get caught up in the demands of every day life, I'll always have Valentine's Day.

Buy one, get one?

This afternoon as my younger daughter, my son, and I were sitting around the kitchen in various states of homework, my son made a fascinating observation.

The Boy: "Mom. (Mom. Mom. Mom. Hey, Mommie... Mom. Mom!)"

Me: "Did you say something?" (In my defense, I was concentrating really, really hard!)

The Boy: "Guess how many definitions there are in the dictionary for the word 'free'. Guess. You'll never guess. Just 'free' with no prefixes or suffixes or anything... Guess!"

Me: "'Free'? Um, I don't know. You should probably just tell me, MarcE."

The Boy: "Nineteen! Look, it covers most of this page and all of the next one."

That got my attention. Nineteen?! Really?

That is fascinating. Partly because it captured the attention of a ten year old, and partly because I never knew such a little word carried so much weight. Hmmmm...

I wanted to look at "free" a little closer, so I typed it into the "Bing" search engine to see what amazing wisdom I would get from the information superhighway. I had visions of deep thoughts on free speech, free will, freewriting, free to be you and me, and all sorts of educational and/ or profound insight on what it is to be free.

What I got back was 4.7 billion offers of free stuff that, as we all know, isn't really free. What a letdown! Where's the wisdom I was searching for? I surely was not looking to be marketed to...

Rather than explain and pontificate on what I think the most relevant of the 19 definitions is to me, I'll leave that hanging and ask you, my (few) loyal readers: What do you think of when you hear the word "free"?

Maybe I'm too easily fascinated, but I really like that this small conversation with The Boy happened this afternoon. I like that it made me think today about something I wouldn't have otherwise thought about: the concepts of choice and free will and accountability. It actually all fits in with the Great Mysteries of Life and other heavy stuff that I've been pondering lately. So maybe right there is the wisdom I was looking for... I just got it from my ten year old instead of from Bing.

In Memory of a Truly Great Guy...

This week I'm going to wax a little philisophical with y'all. Bear with me. I have nothing original to say here, because what I'm feeling right now is as old as life, and death, itself.



One of my co-workers, Mike "The Machine" Denman, a magnetic, lively firecracker of a person, died suddenly this last Tuesday. He was ill very briefly, and although I don't know exactly what the initial illness was, I believe he died from a secondary complication. It's shocking and sad, always, when a person young and healthy dies. The Machine was only 34 years old.



Okay, so I work on an ambulance for a living, and I get that death isn't always a long drawn-out process and sometimes it's sudden and unexpected. But what I'm feeling right now has far less to do with that the fact that he was young and far more to do with the fact that he was good.



Just good.



A sweet, kind, wickedly witty and funny, crazy intelligent good guy. A guy who always, literally, always, had a bright, beaming smile on his face. A guy who was so smart and would share his knowledge in a way that made you feel like you were as smart as he was, as if he was just reminding you of something you already knew. A guy who left a good feeling with all the patients, families, hospital staff, and co-workers he encountered. All the time. In a workplace that can be petty and riddled with gossip, he did not engage. He would far sooner laugh at his own expense than someone else's. If he had an issue with a peer, he would gently, skillfully weave it into a conversation and that peer would soon be nodding along in agreement, having been shown the error of his ways, in the most respectful of manners. Mikey had mad people skills to go along with his street smarts and amazing clinical knowledge. Last month, he and his partner spearheaded a food drive that involved sitting in an ambulance for 48 hours and accepting donations with the hope of filling that ambulance with food. They got over a ton, I think it actually ended up being 2600 pounds, of food donated. The month before, he and his partner (in crime!) organized a competition called "Splintfest" that pitted two employees against each other in determining who had the best mad skills with wounded limbs. It was so fun, and such a boost to morale. Who else would have done these things? Well, other than his terrific (and heartbroken) partner, no one.



He was the whole package.



That's the saddest thing.



When young people die, we murmur of our shock, we express condolences about the children and spouses left behind, we speak of the unfairness of parents burying their children. But I'm going to be honest here. We don't always necessarily miss that person, even though we're caught up in the "youngness" of it all. Now, here's where I go all cliche on you: Some people, not many, make a difference. Some people leave a space behind that is frighteningly impossible to fill. I don't think Mikey did anything with the intent of being remembered someday as a great person, he just was, inherently, good.



Do you ever wonder how you will be remembered? Once in a while, I have... Since Tuesday, I have A LOT. The pain of Mike "The Machine's" loss is a reflection on how he lived his life. A ray of sunshine is burned out, and it hurts. But Lord, does it also inspire. Mikey left the world a better place than he found it, and I pray that out of his death, the people who knew him may choose to be a little kinder, a little more patient, smile a little more, and exercise the goodness within that we all choose to suppress sometimes. In your memory, Mikey D, I post this and wish you Godspeed until we meet again, one sweet day.


http://mikedenmantribute.blogspot.com/2010/01/memories-of-machine.html#comments

My very first blog post, ever.

For 20 January, 2010


Welcome to Rachel's World. I've never blogged before, or even so much as kept a journal. To be honest, the only reason I started this blog is because it's a requirement of my composition class. Yes, I said composition class...

You see, at the ripe old age of 41, I find myself a "College Student." Last summer, after much wringing of hands, gnashing of teeth, and literally years of thinking about returning to school, I finally took the plunge. What was holding me back? Reasons... Lack of support... Excuses, mostly. And now, six short months later I'm in my third quarter of school already. The time is going by lightning fast, but I'm trying to be very conscious of taking this school thing one term at a time and not thinking too much about the big picture.

I'll be 44 by the time I achieve my goal and earn a Bachelor's degree. Forty-four, and on the job hunt.

Scary? You bet. But if I don't do this thing, I'll still turn 44 in 2012, only without the higher education I've always wanted but never got around to getting. So, one quarter at a time, I'll get it done.

I hope.

The harsh truth is, I haven't always followed through... I've let myself down, and my family. My parents. I need to do this now, for me. I need to do this so I have credibility when I tell my children how important it is to get a college education. I need to do this so I can be a better provider to my household and ease the burden on my husband. I just need to do this.

I think about the different ways I've defined myself as an adult. First and foremost, I'm a wife and mother. For a time I was a single mother. For a long time, actually. But a mother since I was 20 years old. I've always placed the most value on my role as a matriarch, the female head of my household. But I'm also a daughter, a sister, friend, auntie, cousin, neighbor, and employee/ co-worker.

Here's more on that: Employee. Co-worker. I've worked for my present private ambulance company employer since 1994, in the field since 1992. That's an eternity in emergency medical services. I am, as "they" say, a dinosaur, and I'm ready to close this chapter and see what else is out there for me. Maybe not today, or this year, but in the foreseeable future I'll be walking away from my comfort zone that I know so well and asking someone else to hire me. I'll have to start all over again, just like I did in 1992, when I first set foot on an ambulance.

Since then, those early days of my EMS career, I've been in the presence of some stunningly life-altering, and sometimes life-ending, moments. I've been in the presence of phenomenal abuse of the 911 system. True: they're someone else's moments, and I'm just a witness. The vast majority of contacts I've had with patients and their families are forgotten by the end of the day or sometimes by the end of the week, but there are a few standouts that I carry with me and always will. The experience, as a whole, of being present in people's most vulnerable and desperate moments has had its effect. I still have compassion, but I'm nowhere near as idealistic as I was. I get bitter about the abuse of the system. My back hurts, and my shoulder hurts. I'm tired, and it's time to move on.

I hope, if you take the time to read and follow this blog, you'll read about my continuing success in school. I hope you read, late in 2012, that I've graduated. I pray that shortly after that, you'll read that I've gotten my dream job in pharmaceutical research and development. But if you don't read or follow this blog, then I hope you'll wish me well on my journey.

~Rachel T