I'll Love You More Tomorrow

When I watched my grandfather die several years ago, it forever changed my life. Even though I knew it was coming, I ignored the possibility. My sister called me at school one morning to say we needed to leave-immediately. Gandad had taken a turn for the worse. I remember bursting into tears and sliding down the wall in the school office listening to my sister trying to talk through her tears and share the urgent news. It took ten hours of hard driving between my three sisters and me, but we made it. Walking through the door of his hospital room and running to his bedside brought tremendous relief. He opened his eyes and said he loved us, then went back to sleep never to wake again. For three days my family lived in his hospital room-eleven of us taking turns sitting at his bedside holding his hand. I watched his body come up off his bed with every single breath. As the doctor came in and out of his room, he gave us hope every time saying, "Wow! I can't believe he's hanging in there. He's a strong man." It was a false hope. He took his last breath about 7:00 am on a Saturday morning. We were all standing around his bed, holding hands and praying for him. At the time, I was so greatful to be with him through his last moments of life. I didn't realize the haunting effect it would have on me. Five years later, I am writing about it for the first time. I am still not strong enough to talk about it with my family and may not ever. I wrote a poem about him today. I enjoyed taking a memory walk through my life with him. The healing power of writing is amazing.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you held me tight today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you sang sweet songs to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you tickled and we giggled today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you napped with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you taught me to ride a bike today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you took me fishing today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you screamed and cheered for me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you laughed with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you played cards with me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you talked to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you asked for my help today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you listened to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you celebrated my accomplishments today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you said goodbye to me today.

I’ll love you more tomorrow
Because you’ve loved me every day.

Do you know where your desire to read came from?

The Pinballs fell into my lap in the fifth grade. A friend passed the book along to me when she finished, saying it was now her favorite book. What makes a great book? After spending the first three years of my educational career in the lowest reading groups, how was I to know. I hated reading!

I graciously accepted the book, hiding the fact that I never intended to read it. I never read any books I checked out from our weekly visit to the school library. This book was different. I picked it up and finished it in two days! How could this happen-a chapter book in two days? I spent three years in the lowest reading group. I couldn't read. Unbenouced to me, I was a reader. For the first time, I understood why people loved to read: interest and emotional connections.

The Pinballs changed my life when I was in the fifth grade. Twenty years later, I checked the book out again. This time I read it in a couple of hours. The story was just as brilliant the second time around! That night I wrote the author a letter. I wanted to share with Betsy Byars how her story impacted my life. The story created a reader out of me. Furthermore, it explained a desire in myself to mother the motherless.

The Pinballs is about the love and sense of family three kids learn from each other living in a foster home. If only Mr. and Mrs. Mason parented every foster home in America today! This story shaped who I was as a teacher and who I am as a school counselor. The most important role effected is who I am as a mother to my step son, my only son, who lives with his father and me.

A New Journey

I believe this weekend will go down as being the scariest and most exciting time in my life. I have publicly branded myself a writer. I have kept writing in a closet that I only entered when I felt no one was looking. I have shared the idea of writing books with very few for fear that I may never accomplish this life dream. A fear of failure is something I live with every day. Just attending Frontiers in Writing this weekend was one of the hardest decisions of my life because once I start, there's no turning back. I am opening the door for more failures and disappointments than successes. In a workshop at FiW presented by a brilliant author, Linda Rohrbough, she explained the psychological term cognitive dissonance: the uncomfortable tension that may or may not come from having two conflicting thoughts at the same time. If you are completely comfortable with what you are doing than you are not excelling.
Apparently I am ready for an abundance of cognitive dissonance as I step out of my safe, comfortable world. My stomach has knotted, a lump has set up camp in my throat, and an awkward feeling of insecurity has ached in my arms and legs all weekend. Here I am... naked to the world.