The Shed Notebook: Remembering Mom and The Smallest Things

"Sometimes the smallest things take up the most room in your heart."- Winnie the Pooh

My mother died one year ago today. Mom also loved Winnie the Pooh. The quote I found today seems fitting as I reflect on Mom's life a year later.   I learned when Mom was ill and after she died she did the smallest things for others. When I would run into someone at the store, or a friend of hers  would come into the library, or family members would read another card sent in memory of Mom, there were always the smallest things people we remembered. We knew the big things. Her former students shared stories of her creative classroom, her animals in her classroom, her Valentine post office, and reading "Mrs. Piggle Wiggle." Her friends remembered her dedication to her teacher association, PTA, the Library Board, and her friendship. Her family will never forget the meals she prepared, the strong hand to reassure in time of need, her love for television shows and soaps,the vegetables and flowers from the garden, and the fruit cake, popcorn balls, and cookies at Christmas.

 I learned of the little things. She came home and brought a heater up to a cold building when the librarian was selling books at the annual book sale. Her and dad found extra money so a friend could get out of jail and be home for Christmas with his family. There was a story of how she stood in the sweltering sun selling sloppy joes at Frontier Days to support the Silver King School PTA. Mom volunteered at my own Chili Feed in the evening at my school since she couldn't volunteer during the day. She remembered her former students that were staff at Kindred during her last months even though she taught them over fifty years ago. When she was tired, couldn't remember things, hurt all over, and was confused in her last months of life she always thanked the workers, had a smile on her face when people came to visit, and listened to others tell their sad stories. She held my hand while I cried over the death of my dog Annie.
Those smallest things filled up my mother's heart. That is another part of her I love and miss a year later.

The Shed Notebook: Ten Lessons Learned While Recuperating From Knee Surgery

Forty days ago I had knee replacement surgery. My knee was worn out from arthritis and bone spurs around the knee made walking difficult. I did everything my surgeon and physical therapist told me to do, because that is what I thought I should do. I've been told that my recovery has been better than most. I didn't have a lot of swelling, I was able to walk without a walker quickly, and physical therapy was bearable.  This is what I learned:
1. "It is not a sprint, it is a marathon". My wise physical therapist reminded me of this early on. Recovery needs to move slowly.
2. Ice is the magic bullet in recovery. My Polar Ice Therapy Machine has been my best friend.
3. Life goes on if the flowers aren't deadheaded in a timely manner.
4. Sleep heals no matter what time of day or night you get it.
5. Painted toes make the healing happen faster. Go figure!
6. A sweet husband can do laundry.... he can even fold it and put it away!
7. Stay away from knee surgery images on Google.
8. It is important to do daily exercises even if Candy Crush, Words With Friends and Tetris are calling.
9. It is important to keep the DVR full of  shows. I could actually watch and exercise at the same time.
10. The best medicine for recovery has been ice cream. Each time I try a new flavor I feel even better. I don't know if there is medical research to support this, but it is working for me. Best healing flavor? Tillamook Chocolate Peanut Butter! I am sure there are other ailments a variety of ice cream flavors will heal.

The cards, messages, gifts, food, coffee drinks, encouragement, and kind words have helped immensly. Thank you friends and family.

The Shed Notebook: Ten Lessons Learned From The Remodel

We started a remodel project on our house on April 25th. As of yesterday, it is winding down and we are working to put the house back together. I had never been through a remodel before, but I did learn some important lessons through the process.
1. You can survive without a shower every day. You can even survive without a shower every three days.
2. Having a toilet in your house is overrated. We managed one whole night sneaking outside and "watering"  the lawn.
3. A human CAN sleep through hammering, drilling and pounding. I have mastered it very well in the six weeks.
4. The dogs did survive not being with us every waking moment of the day. They started enjoying the backyard together.  They also enjoyed playing tug a war with two bench cushions. The cushions didn't survive.
5. It is possible to enjoy healthy dinners without a stove/oven. It helps to have restaurants close by in a pinch though.
6. Our cats can also sleep through hammering, drilling, and pounding. Our cats could sleep through an earthquake.
7. When purchasing a vanity for the bathroom, don't rely on looks only. Our very beautiful vanity only gave us about an inch to squeeze by to the toilet. It had to go back. Darn, I loved that vanity.
8. Having a mirror is overrated also. We both survived with only one hand mirror during the remodel. I didn't scare anyone when I went to the store so I guess I looked somewhat presentable.
9. You have a perfect excuse to not clean house during a remodel. Why dust when more dust will fly?
10. The whole process is so worth it. We could live with the inconvience.
Photos soon!

I'm Enough

"After all those years as a woman hearing 'not thin enough, not pretty enough, not smart enough, not this enough, not that enough,' almost overnight I woke up one morning and thought, 'I'm enough."
                                                                                                   Anna Quindlen

I have stumbled across this quote numerous times in my travels. I have also read many essays by Anna Quindlen and when she puts words to paper, it makes sense. I have worked hard for four months to reach a goal of wellness. Because of constant pain from arthritis, I knew I needed knee replacement surgery. I have a wise surgeon that could have just operated on my knee and set me up failure. He didn't . He gave me a list of goals I needed to accomplish. I needed to lose weight, do physical therapy, and wear knee braces.
I have reach my goal weight, but I have accomplished enough for the surgery. When I heard him say, "You are motivated and have a positive attitude" I knew then that I'm enough! 

Daily Peace: The Most Beautiful People

" The most beautiful people we have known are those who have known defeat, known suffering, known struggle, known loss, and have found their way out of the depths. These persons have an understanding of life that fills them with compassion, gentleness, and a deep loving concern. Beautiful people do not just happen." Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

Above are a few of those beautiful people in my life.
From top left clockwise: Grandma Woolum with sister Carol, Uncle Bob West and Mom, Dad, Uncle Bob, Aunt Lila, Grandma West, Mom

Sibling Assignment #191:Swan Song and 52 Cups of Poetry

I gave the following assignment for this month:

"Write a tribute to a friend that is no longer with us."
You will find brother Bill's here and sister Carol's here.

I chose to write about a student rather than a friend. After the first year of teaching at Inchelium,
I was working with students in summer school when we got the news that one of our students had
been shot in a freak accident while the family was camping south of town. The student had just finished
third grade that spring. Her family and the reservation community was never the same.
I can remember attending her funeral and walking outside to see her laying in an open casket i
n the most beautiful dress. She looked like a precious doll. That haunted me long after the service.
When I worked with a poet as the writing project a few years later, she worked with me to get my
thoughts to paper. This poem also helps me reach my goal of writing 52 poems in 2018.

Swan Song
in memory of S.A. Swan
A Sacred Place On Lake Roosevelt
(1983-1995)

Don’t apologize for the day you allowed your sister to

mark in that brand new book,
Remember, I wanted you to take it home

and practice reading it to her.

Don’t apologize for the day your mother arrived

to visit your teachers at school.
You were good to steady her when

she stumbled and used angy words.

Don’t apologize for the day you forgot the words

from a story you composed in class.
Remember, we wrote them, whispered them,

wrestled with them to help you feel the sound.

Don’t apologize for the day after recess when

I had to send someone for you.
Because your other teacher kept you in your seat,

redoing that ditto ‘till you got it right.

Don’t apologize for the day you never appeared,

missing Indian tacos for lunch.

Remember, it was the day your mother returned

to the rez once again.

Don’t apologize for the day at summer school when

the children heard of your death
We tried to read, we tried to write,

but ended up seeing you.

Don’t apologize for leaving before I could say

how much I loved your spirit.
Remember S.A., you were a fragile duckling,

beginning to become a swan.