The 200 Point Game

I don't write about my physical or mental health often because it's just...a lot. But today, for some reason, I started thinking about my mental health and games. I love games. In college, we used to play spades but at one point we had to find a new game to play because I was too competitive and made it less fun (oops). I grew up playing canasta with my parents and of course Monopoly and Yahtzee, all the typical kids games. I say this because one day, I got a letter in the mail from my oldest brother, Ryan, and it was a game. Being completely transparent, I have been diagnosed as Bipolar I and had just been released from the Behavior Health Hospital after having a severe suicidal depressive low. I was still low, but doing well enough that my doctor was willing to release me.

Depression is a thief. I did not feel like doing anything, talking to anyone (except my mom), getting out of bed--life was just rough. Knowing he was miles away, my brother had created a game for me to play. In the letter he told me there was a prize at the end and if I didn't want to play, just to let him know and he would just send me the prize. But he knows I am a gamer and had an inkling that I'd play. What he did was make activities and give each activity a point value. For instance, cook spaghetti (my favorite food) +2 pts, go to mass +10 pts, meet someone new +5 pts, and then I got a bonus 2 pts for everything I tweeted and hashtaged. I can't truly express how low I was at this time in my life but I was just making it minute by minute. But this game gave something to do--I know this sounds dramatic, but something to live for. I was excited to do the things on the list and accomplish something. It made me feel real, whole, like I mattered again. When I finally won the game (200 pts), he sent me the prize--a custom puzzle of mine and his dog that crossed the rainbow bridge together three or so years prior. I sat down and tried to do the puzzle but it was extremely hard. I took it home for Christmas and we all worked on it together and got it framed before I came home to Denison. 

I look at the puzzle on my wall every day and am reminded of that time in my life compared to now. I have seen those dark times again but every time I have managed to come out on the other side. My family is my greatest support system, not to mention I have a small handful of good friends. But if you ever need something to keep you going, try a game--even if it is computer solitaire. 

Chicken Tendies

 

This weekend I have been relaxing and grilling on my back patio. I have stayed put mainly because my car needs new brake pads and rotars and I'm not willing to risk going out--and it's been a good thing. I've needed the rest. 

My parents taught my brothers and I to cook, and "grill", at a young age. Granted, they ate plenty of battered  pancakes, undercooked burgers, and a generous amount of mishaps on my part--but I did come out a decent cook on the other side, or I'd like to think so at least. Now, I can turn on a grill (electric), light a charcoal grill, and get a Traeger ready, but it wasn't until I lived with my oldest brother, Ryan, that I really learned and garnered a love for the grill. He would use the grill all the time. We had steak, burgers, salmon on cedar planks and salt blocks...we were LIVIN'. 

When I moved to Denison (in my...mmm...third or fourth year...) I came back with an old charcoal grill that was at Big John's that our neighbor Darlene let me have. Let me tell you...I used this old, beat up, probably spent ten years in rain and snow, charcoal grill every day for at least the last three months of summer into fall and again when spring came into summer. It might sound dumb, but this charcoal grill and I had a bond. I could sit outside and watch it smoke until the coals were that perfect gray color, and then I would grill whatever cut of meat for however long my brother taught me to grill it and boy was I living the dream. Guaranteed, my mom got tired of hearing about my love for this grill over the phone. But the old charcoal grill took something I had very little of--patience. I couldn't just turn it on, wait ten minutes, and put the meat on like I could with my parents electric grill. I had to get the coals lit, let them smoke, and then after they rested I could put the meat on. This process reminded me, or even more sent me back in time, to when I was an altar girl swinging incense. In order for the incense to smell and smoke, and fill the church with the presence of the Holy Spirit, the coals have to be lit and burn together much like they do in a charcoal grill. 

Today, unlike a lot of weekends, I am grilling. I still have a charcoal grill but have upgraded to the lovely Akorn Char Griller gifted to me (us) by my roommates parents. The Akorn is fancy, easy, has smoke handles and three different grilling platforms. My original charcoal grill was simple, one rack, three wheel rods--that constantly fell off when grilling, watch out baby! But boy did I love that grill. It taught me so much about grilling and about life. Just the same as the incense always did--I learned so much about being careful (not to burn down the sacristy), and how to get it just at that burning temperature that the whole church smelled and looked like the Holy Spirit had come down. 

Anyways...eat them ribs.

Whisper Words of Wisdom

 I've been writing this blog post in my head for about three weeks now...what to write about, how to start it, who my audience is, and so on. Forgive me if the outcome is discombobulated and more of a purge than a post. 

Growing up, certain memories stick out to me more than others--like I'm sure they do for you.

• I remember my parents making my brothers and I paint the outside of the house--that was character building for the ages. 
• I remember being very little, riding in the car with my mother, and her telling me that I was going to start going to Rosie's instead of Doris's house where I would have to take a nap. 
• I remember my oldest brother's senior bonfire and standing at the top of the home side bleachers while crying and not knowing what I was going to do without my best friend. 
• I remember walking up to the hospital the afternoon Ali died and seeing all of my teammates in tears.
• I remember my mom coming to my side when I had to put down my sweet Reggie boy the day before my tonsils were removed at twenty-four.
• I remember the day Spanish just "clicked" for me after staring at a knife for about five minutes and finally remembering the word for it. 
• I remember the day I started this blog...sitting in the upstairs quiet space of the St. Edward's library...back when it had books in it. 
• I remember watching my mom hug my brother after we lost the coin flip to be in the football state playoffs. 
• I remember Mr. Amaya teasing me every morning in Raymondville about how he knew when I showed up to the gym because I always showed up early enough to set off the alarm. 
• I remember being on the road and having to make the most difficult call to my best friend Mary that our best friend LJ had passed away.
• I remember the past seven years running the pool in the summer and all of the kids that I have been able to watch grow up--swimmers and guards alike. 
• I remember the day my doctor sat me down and told me I was Bipolar I. 
• I remember the day my brother took me to buy my new (used) car. Right around this time of year actually...
• I remember tweeting every funny quote or word of wisdom Lady would give me on Sundays. I cherish these now as she grows older and is less and less witty.

I remember these things and so much more. 

When I am teaching kids to write, I will often draw shapes on the whiteboard and tell them that there has to be an imaginary string that ties the shapes together or it's just poor writing...so what is the string in this post? In everything I remember, there is always someone there who is in my support circle, who cares for me, whose love never sways--in the highs or the lows. 

Some people in my circle have known me for years; some people in my circle know me intimately; some people in my circle come and go; but what I know of all people in my circle is that they love me for me, and what a blessing. 

This fall I have decided to do something new to reconnect with some of my people. I had never been to a college football game until this fall (private school problems). So, I decided that I was going to see as many games as I could with as many of my people as I could. I am right in the middle of this endeavor and it has been so fun. Each week (give or take) I get to experience a new crowd, a new game, with my people. 

I want to give back to you, my people, as much as you have given to me--though I know that will never happen, I can still try, right?

I will be the first to admit that I do a very poor job of texting or calling and an even worse job of answering said messages or calls. So, if you would like to hear from me, I would LOVE to catch you up. Drop me a message with your address and I will write you a letter. How about that? Snail mail style--messy handwriting and all. 

Let it be.

LAW

The Signature

 My oldest brother Ryan and I were home with my parents during the first part of the pandemic for about five and a half months. During that time, he pushed me to do something productive every day--along with gently pestering me to do more than one thing...which was good for me but I would never admit it at the time. He and my dad kept telling me to read a book...specifically "The Story of a Soul" about St. Therese of Lisieux. I said no multiple times--mind you I did start a book, just not that one. The day before I was leaving to come back to Denison, they were telling me how she would leave roses for people as her signature. Both of them said jokingly (but not so much) that I would see roses all the way back on my drive. You better believe I looked for them roses but didn't see a damn one. I was SO disappointed. 

Last week, was her patron saint day and you better believe both my dad and brother told me about it--my dad twice (good thing too). My dad texted me early that morning and told me about it, my brother had told me the night before, and my dad told me again that afternoon when I was Facetiming him and my mom. I said blah blah blah when he told me again...then...he asked me if I had seen any roses. 

So my hair. My hair is kind of my thing. It has been since high school. It's long; it's pretty, and I love that it's naturally straight--and no, I'm not trying to be vain; I just feel like Samsom but thank god I don't have to cut it off. I decided for the first time in about...oh two years that it was time to get a haircut. I happen to have an old friend who has a hair salon in the area so I made an appointment with her and went to get my haircut on the patron saint day of St. Therese...MISTAKE, just kidding. It was really good to see my old friend and catch up with her. I was sitting there getting my hair cut and noticed a beautiful dozen roses she had sitting in her station. I told her they were pretty and she said her boyfriend had sent them for no reason--just because.

I told my dad no, I hadn't seen any ros...OH SHIT WAIT! YES I DID SEE ROSES OH MY GOD. And her boyfriend sent them for no reason...YUP that's about how my life goes. 

FYI I had started reading the book already (and hate it for the most part) but I guess I'll finish it. 

Suntans, Friendship Bracelets, and Guardian Angels

Running the pool in my hometown is my favorite job. I love the summer and everything about the pool. The smell of chlorine and sunscreen is an aroma I will never tire of. People like to think that my job is just getting a nice tan and swimming all day--and it is--but it's not. I know that every kid who is swimming in the pool is a life I potentially will have to save.

I haven't had to save anyone this year (knock on wood) but by the end of the summer it usually happens. If I were just tanning, we all know the child would be in far more danger. Besides watching the water all day, I give swimming lessons.

Swimming lessons are a life survival skill and I really enjoy teaching them. I teach babies all the way through grown adults. Don't get me wrong, I don't do the survival teaching for babies and toddlers--so most of my 1-4 year olds don't come out as Michael Phelps but they learn to embrace the water and basic instinct techniques. Some of my kids are head first, no fear of the water, and are ready to jump off of the diving board within the first five minutes. Once such kid came to the pool today and kept asking me to watch her do her tricks--which I happily obliged when I could. Others are timid and eventually just get in and go. The last of the trio are those that are down right scared. Scared of the water, scared of not touching the ground, scared of having their head go under--the list goes on. I don't ever remember being afraid of water but believe me this fear is real. 

Today I had a kiddo who was scared. We were at the end of our lesson and I was telling him how excited I was to see him tomorrow and he asked his mom what happens if he gets scared again. What she said made more sense than anything I've ever heard about kids and swimming in the pool. She said that tonight they would go home and pray to Jesus that He would send the child's guardian angel with him to protect him while he swam. MAN THAT MAKES SENSE. Because let me tell you I was sitting there today with forty kids in the pool wondering why I hadn't had to jump yet--it's all the guardian angels. I'm sure glad they are professional swimmers. 

There are many great things about the pool but one of the best this year is my crew. They are awesome. The best I have ever had. All of them care about their job and doing it well. They arrive on time, stay late, and are always willing to do anything extra--like vacuum for six hours after a windstorm. During our breaks we sometimes make friendship bracelets. It might seem kind of corny but I love them and am embracing the hippie or 90s life whichever you see it. I see my bracelets and am reminded of how thankful I am to have hardworking guards who care about the pool like I do. 

Now, lets be real, I love my tan, sitting out in the sun all day is my favorite, but after today I'll never look at the pool the same way. Instead of just kids I'll always see the guardian angels floating right behind them. 

Peace 

Day 10

Today is Day 10 of my quasi-quarantine. I have been making rosaries everyday and would like to make you one...if you are interested! All I ask is that you donate to my favorite seminarian. Here is a picture of what the rosary looks like:

I hand make them out of string. My mom taught me how to make them and she also makes them as well. They are nice gifts and keep me busy during this time. I started a puzzle last night and if it weren't for my brother, I would have put the puzzle back in the box and started a different one already.

Tomorrow we start our online instruction for the students at Denison ISD. I have my assignment posted already and hopefully they all find it to be simple and not time consuming. I think that during this time, we as teachers, need to be considerate of what our students are going through. I know many of my kids are taking care of their siblings, fixing meals during the day, and doing much more than I am throughout the day. I am NOT trying to put more stress on my students and I am definitely trying to make school something that is not a huge thing to stress about. I think that the last thing that my kids need is one more burden to worry about.

"We Didn't Start the Fire"

I actually thought I had a blog titled this already but I ran through my titles and I don't. I remember in high school, my teacher, Coach Felderhoff, had us do a project where we finished "We Didn't Start the Fire". I remember the project because I had such a good time doing it and it helped me understand how the world would always have problems no matter what age people were. I know there is someone out there who has already added the lyrics to the song featuring COVID-19 so I don't plan on writing my own. However, if I were still in Coach Felderhoff's history class, you can bet I would write some killer lyrics for this decade.

Stay hopeful.

LAW

Day 9

I've been in my own personal quarantine for nine days now. I did drive to my parents' to stay with them so I wouldn't be alone for two more weeks. As my brother told me this morning, we are living history that people will write about and remember for years to come. The things I will remember about this time include not being able to go into stores or come into contact with other people, teaching online classes to my students, how to get through multiple hours in a day without becoming completely bored, and I'm sure much more.

The more news I read, the more I think that the effects of COVID-19 will last much longer that anyone originally anticipated. To pass the time, I have made rosaries, colored, wrote cards, and watched plenty of television. I never thought I would be ready to go back to school but I miss the daily routine, the kids, and the challenges of teaching.

I am also ready for warm weather. If the weather was over forty degrees, I think I would be more content with being at home. There is something about warm weather and a hot sun that bring me peace. I am glad to be out of the rain in Denison but am ready for a sunny day--hopefully tomorrow.

One person I am grateful for during this time is my oldest brother, Ryan. He keeps me on my toes during the day. Granted, he's sometimes a pest, but we have a lot of fun together. It would be great if Reidy was here too but he is in Fort Worth working at the bank he runs. My brothers are two people who are always fun to be around. They are always laughing and have a joke for every moment.

Raider, my dog, is just like the rest of us. He paces back and forth down the hallways, takes naps, eats, and comes around for the occasional pet. He is living his best life.

Today, day nine, is eleven days away from the next announcement that the school will make concerning our return or lack there of to our regular schedule.

Until next time,

LAW