I don’t know what I was thinking.

Maybe I was just in all out productive mode after the first day back at school after break. Last week I’d told my sisters I’d make the call and had even written it at the top of my vacation “To Do” list. Still, I’d totally forgotten, or, at any rate, I hadn’t done it when I actually had the time to do so.

So, when I got home today before 5 pm (yay!), I zipped in the door, dropped my bags and announced to my husband, “Sorry! I’ve got to make a phone call. I need to call Standing Rock and figure things out.”

Then I grabbed my computer and phone and rushed off to the living room. I was actually going to get something done…on a school night!

I guess I was just thinking of it as something to cross off a list. Not thinking about what I was actually doing. Not really thinking at all, just in go-mode.

I googled the number and clicked the green phone icon. A pleasant voice answered after a few rings. “Hello, Standing Rock Cemetery.”

Oh.

I swallowed hard and took a deep breath.

“Um, I’m calling for some information.” I cleared my throat. “I need to know about arranging an interment.”

I spent the next ten minutes or so gathering information about timing, dates, availability. I learned about burial transit permits and learned the word “cremains.”

Next, I had to call the engraver. I took another deep breath, wiped away a few tears, and called. I explained that I was calling to check up on the status of an engraving for a cremation niche and to update it. The man at the engraver’s was clearly taken aback. “I’m just so surprised,” he said. “She was just here with her friend this fall. I remember her vividly as we had quite a lively conversation.”

You see, my father died on Thanksgiving Day in 2022. My stepmother arranged the niche for both of them this past September. She wasn’t ready to part with my dad’s ashes yet, but was adamant that she wanted to have everything organized and dealt with before she died. She was clear that she didn’t want us to have to deal with it all. And then suddenly, quite unexpectedly, in mid-October, she died.

So, I don’t know why I thought I would just be crossing something off a list tonight. Why it would be no big deal to make these phone calls.

After I got the information, I typed up an e-mail to share it with my sisters. And then I gave in and just cried.

I don’t know what I was thinking.

It’s done now, but I’m pretty sure I’m not even going to cross it off the list.

I’m enjoying the pace of not-too-much-to-do or at least of time-enough-to-do-it-in during this week off of school. After leisurely running errands this afternoon, I drove the back way home, enjoying the scenery. As I passed over the bridge in town, I noticed the tell-tale silhouette of an eagle in a tree by the river. Behind it the sky was moody and dramatic. What a great image! I glanced at the seat beside me. Trash tags, library books, freshly ground coffee, the mail. No camera.

I drove the mile home, debating. Should I grab my camera and return? Would the eagle still be there if I did? Parking in the driveway, I hurried inside and grabbed my camera bag, stopping briefly to throw the coffee and mail on the counter. Why not try!? I’d never know if it was still there if I stayed at home.

In a few minutes I arrived back at the river and pulled into the nearby parking lot. Yes! The eagle was still there.

But wait! Wasn’t that another one?

And….yes! Further back, wasn’t that another one as well?

Whoa! There were three juvenile bald eagles in close proximity. What a treat! And to think I almost didn’t come back!

All too soon, the eagles flew off, swooping down low over the waters and then heading down river. Still, I lingered.

How could I have forgotten how much I enjoy the drama of the winter landscape? The grey/white/blue palette of the sky. The intermittent thaw and freeze of the river. The occasional eagle…or two…or three! The dipping and diving mergansers. The ebb and flow of winter life on the river. I soaked it all in, warm in spite of the cold temperatures.

It was the perfect way to round out the day, and a timely reminder that spending time outside should be a high priority over the next few days. I’m looking forward to every minute of it.

After reading the last page, I closed the book, “Houndsley and Catina,” and eased back in my chair.

My students and I sat quietly with the ending for a moment or two. Then I asked, “So, what did Catina and/or Houndsley learn? Do you think there was a lesson in this book?”

A hubbub of conversation erupted as kids started sharing their ideas.

“Friendship!” a couple of voices called out.

“Yeah, you don’t have to win a competition, you need to have friends,” someone said. Many students nodded in agreement. There was an enthusiastic chatter of like-minded comments.

One student sat quietly with his hand up, clearly waiting to contribute to the conversation. I called on him. “Well,” he said, slowly, “I actually learned a lesson from this book. I’ve been trying to get world records for a couple of years now. But from this book, I realized that you don’t have to have a world record or be famous to be cool.”

“How do you feel about that?” I asked him.

He hesitated, then responded, “I’m not sure.”

“Well, I also learned from this book,” C. announced with a grin. “I’ve always wanted to be famous, too, and…”he paused dramatically “…I’m still going for my goals!” he ended with a flourish. Then he added in a quieter aside, ” I also learned that friendship matters.”

“Friendship matters most!” V. chimed in.

“Yeah,” M. shook her head enthusiastically.

As we rounded up our discussion, mostly along the lines of the importance of friendship, C. raised her voice to share her idea, “I think what matters most isn’t what others think of you, but what you think about you.”

It was a pretty nice book discussion to round out the day in our second grade classroom.

I promised myself I’d try to blog twice a week again. After a long time not posting, getting back in the rhythm of Slice of Life and Poetry Friday felt like a stretch, but a positive one. And, last week I did it!

But that was last week.

This morning I knew it was Tuesday, and I told myself I’d think of something to write for Slice of Life during the day. I told myself that even though I knew full well that writing after school is NOT my jam. But still, I work with adorable second graders. How could I not find a story idea?

Still, I came home from work utterly uninspired. I didn’t want to write about the unfortunate-photo-on-the-iPad incident. Or how the first time two students sing you “The Twelve Days of Christmas” it’s endearing. The first time. Or about the amount of energy I expend trying to avoid sending students to the nurse. I didn’t really want to write anything.

Still, I thought about all the times I’ve read posts that other people started with the words, “I wasn’t going to write tonight…”. With them (and my promise to myself) in mind, I decided I should at least try. Maybe I could describe the fire in the wood stove, my sleeping cat, my on-going text conversation with my daughter, the Christmas tree lights glittering in the other room, the hum of Christmas carols playing from the radio in the kitchen… See, there’s a lot you could write, I told myself. So I opened a new page in my blog.

Has anyone else noticed this weird new thing that WordPress is doing? Ok, it could be that it isn’t new, but I have only recently noticed it. That happens to me sometimes. Anyway, when you start a new document, they now have a prompt or question. Once you start typing it disappears. Tonight it said: “What are 5 things you’re good at?” It struck me, in the midst of my struggle to find something to write about, that this new thing (that felt somewhat invasive the first time I noticed it) might actually be helpful.

Off the top of my head, without second guessing, I quickly typed my answers:

5 things I’m good at.

1. Baking
2. Taking pictures
3. Procrastinating
4. Avoiding uncomfortable truths
5. Changing the conversation

Hmmm…interesting. I wonder what WordPress will ask me next time? This could be the start of a beautiful relationship… or at least a Tuesday safety net! What are 5 things you’re good at?

Driving to school, I feel the stress accumulating. It’s like there are free-floating electrons of anxiety in the atmosphere, and I’m greedily scooping them all up. A big stress hoover.

As I drive along, thinking of electrons, a memory tugs at me: childhood shock wars. I haven’t thought of this in years, but suddenly I remember it all so clearly. How, once upon a time, my brother and sisters and I would put on our thickest socks and scoot our feet across the rug in large swooping steps, skating across the carpet. How we’d dodge and chase each other, not lifting our feet, still scooting, hoping to pick up more and more and more charge. Finally we’d stretch out, connect, and a bolt of shock would release from one to the other.

Zap!

“Ouch!” we’d yell. Or, “That was a good one!”

And then we’d laugh and laugh, and start scooting again.

I’ve been lingering in childhood memories lately and bracing for the next shock, whatever it might be. Missing my dad. Missing my friend. Grieving my newly lost stepmother. Mourning my relationship with my brother who’s chosen to remove me from his life. Trying to come to terms with this odd place and time called middle age.

On this particular November morning, as I reminisce, the day is brightening around me. Sunrise is imminent. I notice the dark grey clouds gathering above the horizon. I try to remember what I once learned about clouds. Aren’t there electrons hanging out there, too? I’m pretty sure there are electrons in the clouds, and that when enough of them accumulate, they stream downward. Then protons surge upward, and …

Boom! Zap! Lightning! Thunder! Power unleashed.

As I watch, that potential is gathering on the horizon. It could mean a devastating storm is brewing, or even a minor one, but for right now, the clouds merely seem intent on enhancing the sunrise, sending fractured rays of lights to shimmer through layers of pink, gold, and blue. Without them, the sunset would not be nearly as spectacular. That’s something to remember.

Winter is an etching, spring a watercolor, summer an oil painting and autumn a mosaic of them all. ~Stanley Horowitz

I’ve been feeling change lately, like a physical presence. Perhaps it’s school starting or the thread of chill in the morning air. Perhaps it’s the shift in light to a rich, golden hue. Or perhaps it’s that night lingers into morning and arrives earlier each day. Clearly, fall is edging closer.

Autumn invites nostalgia in.
Come sit beside me. Time is passing. Let’s linger here for a moment together.

I find myself feeling slightly more vulnerable to my memories, to recent losses. Contemplative. There’s a shift in the air. A shift in me. Everything feels just a bit different. On the cusp. Summer is sighing, fading away as fall steps in. It’s both beautiful and faintly unsettling. My feelings and thoughts rustle like leaves in a breeze, kaleidoscopic–a flickering mosaic of past, present and future.

Yesterday morning I went to the river to greet the day, something I have seldom done of late. I wanted to be surrounded by the cool serenity of dawn. To slow time down and watch the day awaken. To wrap a blanket of calm around me. 

Clouds and light stirred and shifted, layered land, water and sky. Boundaries blurred. 

The river slipped in and out of sight behind gilded grasses and veils of glowing mist.

With every moment, the light changed. The view altered. Inevitably clearer, yet still transitioning. Sky. Clouds. Land. Mist. Water. Separating into distinct yet interwoven layers.

I heard them before I saw them. The mournful cries rebounded off the low-lying clouds and filled the chilly air. Unmistakeable. The keen call of Canada geese. I scanned the skies, thinking, as always when I hear them, of Rachel Field’s poem. Something told the wild geese… They flew low above the marsh, passed overhead, then soared around the bend in the river and out of sight. 

Change is coming.