handwritten on March 26, 2019
Today was my last day sitting within the walls of 200 Meadow Lane. And to think, in many ways, this house was where each of us realized the importance of life. Each with our own story. Our own journey to tell. My parents started the tradition early that Meadow Lane would become a second home. An escape into a space with reminder of the important things life had to offer like pigs in a blanket and concepts such as "shrimp cocktail time" and of course secret cousin clubs and Christmas plays written and performed in the basement or the laundry shoot stuffed animal wars or that secret door right inside my uncle's bedroom that leads into a secret back wardrobe space that, for us as children held...
handwritten on March 25, 2019
I woke up this morning to both of my grandparents already sitting at the breakfast table drinking their daily orange juice and bowl of cereal. My grandmother began talking about this cake that she remembers having as well as a corn casserole which she claimed both could be found on the bottom shelf in the kitchen near the stove.
I must say anytime I'm asked to look for something at my grandparent's house, I either know I am going to fail miserably or I am going to find it after searching for a long time. Luckily, though, this time was different. I did find the old Notre Dame cookbook which looked like an antique from the past. It had a bright yellow cover, worn and a Notre Dame emblem on...
handwritten on March 24, 2019
I drove up to Buffalo New York today to visit my grandparents who are both in their nineties. And when I arrived and was talking to my grandfather face to face I just could not help but realize how incredibly whimsical it is to be talking to someone who is quite literally 65 years older than myself. Think about that for a second and what wisdom there is in watching someone at the end of their life when you yourself feel as if you are just beginning your life. There is wisdom in the hands that have held that morning paper for hours upon hours, whimsy in the hair that has been cut with too many haircuts to count, whimsy in those feet that have walked millions of miles to football games and...
handwritten on March 23, 2019
As of late, my husband and myself have been attending this excellent breakfast place near the Northside of Pittsburgh just a block away from where my brother and his fiance will be dwelling. When my husband comes back at around 7:00 or so, we head to our favorite breakfast place, sit by the corner window, watch the sun shine and enjoy the chatter from the waitresses who appear to know just about everyone who walks through the doors. It is the friendliest atmosphere and the most loving. I think if you walk inside a place where everyone appears to know everyone you know you have found a timeless treasure.
There happens to be one waitress there whom we call the waitress angel. She is just...
handwritten on March 22, 2019
I ran across a beautiful poster a few weeks ago. Essentially, if you read the top line it says "teach." However, the bottom line spells "peace." It's funny because as teachers, we become so caught up and so busy in all the administrative issues and expected curricular mandates that we sometimes forget that teaching peace is synonymous. Or, at least it should be.
I often look at the education system and feel like we are doing it all wrong. In so many classrooms students (particular in elementary school) are under this impression that they are there to exist under the mandates of their teacher. The teacher is the sole voice. The teacher tells you what to learn and you learn it. The teacher...
