Month: July 2024

I was in Iowa at my sister’s house looking through old letters and memorabilia that my mother and grandmother had kept. Among the archives was a kindergarten report card for my dad. It had no date but would have been done in about 1928. I remember also seeing something similar from my own kindergarten days, although my mother didn’t preserve those reports.

I don’t know if these assessments continue today, but the criteria reported about my dad offered insight into what was important when I was raised by him more than 20 years later.

Report cards reflect a student’s academic journey. Yet, in addition to subjects and assessments, they once described the intangible qualities of good citizenship—kindness, fostering a sense of belonging, and lending a helping hand.

Citizenship as defined in my father’s youth was not about how much children raised their hands but about character and integrity within the school community. It spoke of empathy, responsibility, and respect for others. In kindergarten the reports seemed to suggest how that child functioned in society.

Growing up, I sometimes wondered how my dad could be “only” a farmer with no voiced aspirations to save the world, as I did when I was in my late teens. I now realize that citizenship occurs in big and small ways. My dad was soft-spoken and yet vehement about what it meant to live a good life. He cared about his family, his animals, his soil conservation practices, and giving back to his community. I learned a lot from him.

Reflecting on my dad’s kindergarten behavior underlined what I had known as an educator for over four decades. Education isn’t only about mastering equations or understanding research literature. It was, and continues to be, about nurturing individuals who know how to think critically and contribute meaningfully to their communities. Education is useless unless it focuses on using knowledge to embody good citizenship.

Five years ago on July 26, 2019, my sisters and I scattered half of the co-mingled ashes of my parents over the farm they owned for almost 50 years. Less than half also were buried in a small plain brown box at a granite gravesite marker in the Coggon cemetery. I also got a small urn of ashes bottled for me to keep. Those ashes and the memories of my parents have now travelled around the world.

My mom and dad loved to travel. I enjoy having them with me physically and emotionally as I experience the outdoors and travelling. They are in a sealed container in a soft blue bag that is easy to carry.

Last week I was hiking in the park. At the destination for lunch, I reached into my pack to pay a moment of homage with the urn. I realized I had left it (them?) on my dresser where I placed it after being out of town the week before. Something was missing in my pause.

I know that my mom and dad are eternally with me. They would have enjoyed my trips whether hiking or visiting miles away. I don’t have to have that tiny vessel with me to remember them, but I like having a physical part of them continually in my presence.

Since the ashes were comingled, they have been out of the country to Croatia, England, Ireland, Scotland, France, Italy, Switzerland, and Canada. In the US, they have been to Baltimore, Salt Lake City, Palm Springs, San Diego, New Orleans, Tolono (IL), Stillwater (OK), Portland, San Francisco, North Carolina, Iowa, New York City, Santa Fe, Orlando, Ft Myers, Dallas, Tucson, St Louis, and Chicago. The ashes are well traveled. In addition, they went on backpacking trips in the mountains as well as accompanying me on most of my hikes and recently, a Yampa River rafting trip.

I miss visiting with my parents about travelling. They were always interested in what I was doing. Therefore, I continue to “show” them my world. I know they approve.

I was backing out of my garage and pressed the door mechanism. Nothing happened. Darn! I was eventually able to lower the door manually. I was late for my volunteer work that morning as I reflected on how much I take for granted that everything will work the way I want every day.

My garage door got fixed the next day. With the irritating event behind me, I thought about things that I take for granted. Later that week I learned that my mother’s cousin had passed away. I had intended to visit her sometime this summer. I took it for granted that, although she had health issues, she would be available when I had time this summer.

We never know when something will go wrong or when someone will face a crisis. I walk a fine line sometimes between worrying that something might happen and remaining optimistic that it will all be fine. It reminds me to think about each day as a gift of thankfulness and to make sure I do not lose out on opportunities that may be fleeting.

My last living aunt had a 90^th birthday party near Chicago recently. When I received the invitation, my first thought was that I was not going. It was a long way to go, would be expensive, and I really did not want to make the trip. I reconciled that I would send a nice card. That decision, however, nagged at me as I wondered when, if not now, I would see my aunt as well as my cousins again.

I decided to go to the party. Using frequent flyer miles and assuring that I could get an Uber to and from the party was set. I would have a long day, which is something I would have done without a thought in my younger years.

My travel home did not go as well as planned but I am deeply thankful that I took this trip. Although I might know what I missed, I would have had a vexing regret that I had not seen my aunt at least one more time. In her retirement home family and friends surrounded her. Five of my cousins as well as my sister and her husband were there. The afternoon was a delightful chance to connect again, even though brief.

I am glad I did not ignore this birthday opportunity. I would have missed an occasion that will make me smile for days to come. Life is a matter of being grateful and not taking events, both big and small, for granted.

I downplay that I am getting older, but I cannot deny that my aging process is happening. Like many people my age, I recently underwent cataract surgery. In preparing for this inevitable procedure, my contemporaries had advice for me and indicated how happy I would be when it was over.

Most cataracts develop because of aging. My optometrist warned me two years ago that I was beginning to develop cataracts and I should continue to be vigilant about wearing sunglasses. During the past year, things were sometimes cloudy even when I wore glasses. It was time to remove the original lens and replace it with a clear artificial lens.

The surgery was painless and lasted for a short time with flashes of light and dark. I had to wear a patch for a few hours and my eye felt scratchy. Eyedrops and Tylenol seemed to help. For my first eye, I felt good by that evening. My second eye required almost 24 hours for minimal recovery. I mostly noticed how bright the sun was and welcomed wearing sunglasses.

The surgery interrupted my active volunteer schedule for a bit. I slowed down with no heavy lifting or playing my trumpet for several days. I returned to normal activities after a week. Although the changes had been gradual and I didn’t think my visual acuity was that bad or that I was not seeing colors as brightly as I could, the surgery resulted in a clearer world. My eyes opened to greater sharpness.

Eight weeks have passes since my eyes were “done.”  I am back to the 20/20 vision I had for the first two-thirds of my life. I now only use reading glasses. I am placing drugstore readers throughout my house.

I am grateful for the technology that has allowed me to see better. I am glad my eyesight was correctable and that I could go through this “once in a lifetime” experience. Now I can strive to make greater sense of my visual world.

“Rollin on the River” frequently entered my mind as I rafted down the Yampa River in late June. The song, originally written by John Fogerty and made popular by Tina Turner, described my experience on the river even though the lyrics offer more depth beyond the fun I had.

I learned years ago that I am a mountain person. I had the opportunity on occasions to go to the ocean when I lived in North Carolina. I also enjoyed rafting in the western Carolina rivers. Hiking in the tall mountain peaks, however, is my happy place.

Nevertheless, while I am lucky to experience those inspirational mountains every day, I also welcome opportunities for “water” breaks. The best of all worlds is a combination of the two as experienced in river canyons. The water provides a means for getting into the heart of areas that would be difficult on foot alone. The hikes we took along the traverse of the Yampa were my favorite as we saw spiral caves, pictographs, and Indigenous artifacts. The river, however, also had its own charm.

The rafted river inspired me in several ways:

• Lounging on a raft paddled by an expert provided relaxation when the water was calm. The Class II and III rapids raised the adrenaline level but also allowed for a huge rush when successfully navigated. The eddies provided the “pause” that became peaceful to experience.
• Going on this guided trip with old friends was a highlight and meeting new folks who also loved the outdoors was gratifying.
• Getting completely away from social media for five days was a blessing and a curse for me. I enjoyed not knowing what was happening in the world on one hand. On the other, I felt anxious NOT knowing. However, no choice existed so “unplugging” allowed me to open myself to all the senses of the experience.
• The six young river guides enthused me. Their leadership was exemplary. Their commitment to helping others appreciate the river and all it had to offer was reassuring that wild areas had a future.
• Two experiences were especially memorable. The 4^th day we paddled silently for about ½ hour with no talking. We could fully absorb the canyons that we travelled. The second experience was the 4^th night when a thunderstorm rolled through the canyon. One could hear the rain on the tent and the cadenced rumbling of the thunder throughout the canyon.

I appreciated the experience of excitement, peacefulness, and appreciation of culture and nature on this rolling river. I remain grateful for ALL the opportunities the outdoors has to offer.