Birthdays and new adventures
Tuesday, October 20, 2009 at 3:15PM 
(Left: "The Birthday Girls")
Wow, it’s been far too long since I’ve posted on my blog—over a month! I think it’s a good sign because it means I don’t have the need for as much “therapy” as I did when I was going through cancer treatment. I do, however, miss writing.
I celebrated my 53rd birthday on Sunday, October 11. My daughter celebrated her 19th birthday three days prior. I am so very thankful that she was home with us to celebrate, as many of her friends are off at college. To view photos of our birthdays, please click here.
I know she will be leaving home in the not-too-distant future, so all of these occasions are that much more bittersweet as I try to squeeze every bit of enjoyment from them.
My birthday weekend was spectacular—a gift. I told my husband that I wanted to “go somewhere” the day before my birthday, so I got on the internet and searched for a place to go. I found some pretty cool places not far from our city, but I honestly couldn’t drum up much enthusiasm for any of them. Besides, I didn’t want to spend a lot of money.
Finally, we decided to just get in the car and visit some of the scenic places we have in our neck of the woods. Purely by accident, we ended up in my hometown of Anacortes. Intending to drive to a beautiful location called Deception Pass, we made another turn and drove past my old neighborhood instead.
I grew up near a spot called Whistle Lake. However, I only remember visiting it once and the memory is so vague that I must have been pretty small. The lake is not accessible by vehicle (unless you’re riding a bike). Visitors must park their cars in a designated area and walk a woodland road to the lake, where there are trails encircling the lake, as well as winding through the forest to various other destinations.
My husband suggested that we walk the trail around the lake. Hmmm, the lake looked pretty big to me, but he assured me it wasn’t that big. So we started walking. It turned out to be much longer than I anticipated, but the cool thing is that I didn’t care. It was an absolutely gorgeous day and the peace and seclusion at the lake was a wonder to behold. We only saw a few other people there, and even then, it was momentarily.
We took some beautiful pictures of the lake and its surroundings. Later, we drove around Anacortes so I could take some photos of the beautiful fall leaves. For a look at the photos, please click here.
The next day (my birthday), was perfect as well. We attended church in the morning. Traditionally, anyone celebrating a birthday or anniversary, is asked to come forward at the end of the service, while everyone sings, "God Grant You Many Years." It's always touching to me, especially to see the combination of toddlers, kids, and adults standing there singing as one family.
After the song, I felt the need to say something to everyone there, so I asked Father David if I could speak. I had a hard time choking back the tears, but I told everyone that a year ago at this time, I had just had a second surgery and was getting ready to start chemo. I said that I wanted to thank everyone for their prayers, love, and support. Our parish is a very big part of my life and I wanted them to know how much I appreciated them.
After church, my husband, daughter, and I met my mom, dad, brother, and sister-in-law for lunch and we had a delicious meal at a restaurant and a wonderful time visiting at my parents' house. There's no other way I would have wanted to spend my day!
A few years ago I ran across something in the Reader's Digest that made an impression on me. It was a short article about how we (especially women) should not be ashamed to admit our ages. To illustrate the point, the author asked, "Which year of your life would you choose to erase?"
With that in mind, I wrote a short blurb that expresses my thoughts on having recently celebrated my 53rd birthday:
When asked my age, I'll admit it. To shave off years would change my life entirely. For which years would I eliminate?
The year as a child with rheumatic fever when I spent three months lying in bed only to recover and suffer the ridicule of classmates for wearing ugly, orthopedic shoes?
Or how about the years as an adolescent when I was fat and awkward and felt I would never fit in with the rest of the crowd?
Would it be my year as a teen watching a classmate die from leukemia and then commiting my life to the One who created me?
Perhaps the year I first fell in love and life began to take on new meaning?
How about the year I was divorced and felt that I had nothing left to live for?
Or maybe the year I met my best friend, Gary, and learned to laugh again?
Perhaps the year a little bundle of life named Ariel made me a mother and I became anchored to life in a way I never had before?
Could it be the year our business failed, we were forced to file bankruptcy and sell our home to satisfy the IRS, and I felt like throwing myself off a cliff?
Maybe the year we discovered our infertility and were left to deal with the death of a dream?
Perhaps the year we renewed our wedding vows and I looked back over more than 20 years and realized the gifts God had given me, right under my nose?
What about the year I was diagnosed with cancer and suffered the indignities of chemo, radiation, and baldness, only to learn how precious my life was and how much every friend and loved one meant to me?
No . . . I think I'll admit each one of my 53 years. For added up, they've made me who I am today.
Beginning in September, I embarked upon a new adventure. For the last year or so, I have been contemplating becoming a high school teacher. Several years ago when I first began working at the high school, my supervisor asked if I was interested in using my work experience to become CTE certified (CTE stands for “Career & Technical Education”—what we used to call vocational education). At the time, I wasn’t interested.
Over the years of working at the high school, my attitude toward the students began to change. I can honestly say when I first started working there that I felt very detached from the kids. Now, however--perhaps because my own daughter has lived through her teen years or perhaps because I’ve gone through cancer treatment—whatever the case—I now see the students in a much different light.
My empathy and compassion for them as human beings has come to the fore. I really believe that having experienced cancer has focused me—you could say that I’ve had a “paradigm shift.”
As much as I enjoy the work I do, both at the high school and for the district as a public information specialist, I have come to realize that I want to contribute to those around me in a more meaningful way. To put it bluntly, I want my life to be about more than sitting in front of a computer every day.
For the last few years, I’ve participated as a judge at various student conferences and truly enjoyed it. I’ve always come away impressed with the enthusiasm and earnestness of (most of) the kids. I realize, of course, that there are plenty of kids without enthusiasm—I see and hear about them every day. But there’s a certain energy and satisfaction that comes from being with high school students.
Several months ago, I proposed the idea to my supervisor that I would be interested in using my work experience to become certified to teach business education and/or graphic design. I asked her if I would be taken more seriously if I signed up for the two-year certification program (classes meet one Saturday per month). She encouraged my interest. So, to make a long story EVEN longer, I registered through Central Washington University to take the CTE Block Certification Program and started my classes in September.
At the same time, I put in an application for a “Conditional Certificate,” which means that I can substitute teach over the next year for certain CTE classes at the high school and count the classroom time toward my practicum experience (required for the CTE certification).
I am excited and scared, but mostly excited. A week or so ago, I was asked to substitute for my first class, having only ONE class observation under my belt. Yikes! The class was a computer lab in digital communications and the students were all freshmen (double yikes)! Fortunately, they were learning about Photoshop, a program I use regularly, so I felt very comfortable assisting them.
We have several teachers who attend our church. One of them told me the day before the class to “use your Queen Victoria face.” That cracked me up as I pictured the classic picture of Queen Victoria. I’m not sure I can replicate that look (probably fortunate for everyone concerned). Another teacher advised, “Just be yourself.”
Just before the class was ready to start, I thought, “You can do this . . . you’ve been through cancer treatment, for crying out loud!” (That’s the nice thing about having experienced cancer . . . it emboldens you in other life situations that seem far less significant.)
The class went well (at least I didn't have any discipline problems and most of the kids seemed to stay on task). Of course, there were an unusual amount of kids who asked to go to the bathroom, so I let them go one at a time. Surprisingly, they weren’t gone too long.
The night before the class, I wondered to my husband, “What if I hate it?” He replied, “Well, you’ll never know unless you do it!” I’m happy to report that not only did I NOT hate it, I rather enjoyed it.
So I’m looking forward to subbing for more classes. Actually, I was asked to fill in for another teacher for one period, but it hardly counts. It was a class of 11 boys who are computer geeks and were working on computer programming. They were very self-motivated and all I had to do was “babysit” them. It was amazing to see the things they were producing, but I liked the Photoshop class better simply because I felt more useful and needed.
One thing I will say about teaching—it was tiring and energizing at the same time. I have no idea how all of this will turn out and I’m not ready to make any drastic changes in my career at this point, but I am enjoying the journey and am glad I made the choice to pursue this new adventure.
Reader Comments (1)
Great story. It may me cry in the middle. Wow. I don't know what years I would could or would want to shave off. I guess the hard years make us stronger and more grateful. I have more empathy for my wife's nerves about subbing. I can talk with adults and small children, but adolescents all at once, I am not sure.