Thank a Stranger

For Teachers Write, our Tuesday challenge was to "Thank a Stranger."  Here's my letter.


Dear Stranger:

    You don't know me, but you have changed my life.  You don't know me, but you have inspired me.  You don't know me, but you have given me hope.  I thank you.

   At my first Relay for Life, I had only been a cancer survivor for 6 months.  I was only a month out from my last round of chemo.  While I was feeling much better, my hair was still missing.  A bandanna still adorned my head.  I was proud to be standing there, but I was also still a little shy about calling myself a survivor.  I was still full of fear.

   Then, as survivor after survivor shouted out their years of survivorship, I listened.  Near the end, I heard your voice.  You proudly shouted out that you were a breast cancer survivor and you had been one for over 45 years!  You have no idea what those words did to me.  I was instantly filled with hope.  Tears came to my eyes.  I told my husband that I wanted that to be me one day, giving hope to the "newbies" like me.  He replied that it would be me.

   I wish I would have caught your name, or gone to speak with you.  I wish I could know you now.  I wish I could thank you in person.  I have thought of you so often over the last year.  Any time I feel that familiar pull of fear, I think of you.  I know that I CAN and WILL make it through this.  I know that I will continue to do the work and fight for the passion that you unknowingly instilled in me.  I will fight for hope.

   So, thank you.  Thank you for being a survivor.  Thank you for being a fighter so that you could be a beacon of hope for others.  Thank you for lighting the path before you so that others like me would know the way.  Thank you for being unafraid to shout to the world what you have been though.  Thank you for HOPE!

   Sincerely,

               Sara:)

Making Sense of Sensory Writing- Teachers Write prompt

All right.  Grace and I have been busy bees, so I've neglected my writing this week.  So.. I need to catch up.  This was actually the Monday morning prompt.  Fun times with Grace are always most important though:)  We've been having SO much fun this summer, but I feel like we are always on the go.  Last night, my "baby" started swimming lessons at Lewis & Clark.  I was worried she'd be scared going into the huge pool all on her own.  Boy was I wrong.  I was a nervous wreck, and she was begging to jump off the diving board into the deep end (obviously that will have to wait for a "few"more lessons).  We normally have dance on Tuesdays, but tonight it was cancelled because of the parade.  Oddly, we have had something going on for the other parades since Grace was born, so this was her first Jersey County parade.  She had a BLAST:) and now we are the owners of a HUGE bag of candy:)  At any rate, by tired baby is in bed, so writing time for me before I follow suit.  

Anyway.... on to the warm-up: 

For the entire prompt, check out Kate Messner's blog at www.katemessner.com/blog.  The prompt asked us to describe an experience triggered by one of our senses other than sight. 


As a little girl, I had a very special relationship with my Mottaz Grandpa.  We connected in a way that I haven't quite seen again until now- watching my own daughter with my dad.  Unfortunately, I lost that amazing man when I was in second grade to a brain tumor.  Despite my young age, I have many crystal clear memories of my grandpa and I still, years and years later, have moments where it hurts that I can't talk to him.  One thing though, always reminds me of every happy time with my grandpa--ice cream:) 

I sat in my grandparents kitchen.  My grandpa and I had just got done playing at the park near their house and come back for our usual bowl of vanilla bean ice cream with Hershey's chocolate syrup.  They had run out of syrup and Grandpa drove me all the way to the grocery store just to buy some more:)  Now we sat at the table with heaping bowls.  I took a few small bites of my vanilla, analyzing the small brown flecks of vanilla bean.  The icy cold concoction slid down my throat, giving me goose bumps along my arms.  Then, I proceeded to do what I always insisted upon doing with my bowl of ice cream--making ice cream soup.  I began to stir my vanilla ice cream, mixing and mixing until it became one with the dark brown Hershey's syrup.  I loved watching the snow white ice cream combine with that rich dark color and become something new.  I loved the smooth light, chocolate brown.  The ice cream melted some as I stirred, becoming the consistency of a thick chocolate shake.  I kept on stirring, taking a few bites of the cool "soup" as I went.  Finally, when it reached the state of "soupiness" that I so desired, I ate it all--right down to the last drop.  Yum!

And, while I haven't made "soup" in far too long, I still think of my grandpa each time I eat ice cream.  I love and miss you!!

Setting the Mood- Teachers Write

This warm up was from Thursday, but since that was the 4th of July, I was busy with my family:)  If you would like to look at the entire warm-up, check out Kate Messner's blog at http://www.katemessner.com/blog/.  

The room I'm in:  "bare bones" description: 

-comfy, beige couch

-brown recliner with a quilt

-pictures of family and friends adorning the walls

-large tv

-fan circulating cool air

-long green curtains

-toys on the floor

-desk with black chair in front

From the point of view of someone who is scared: 

She sat down on the edge of the couch, fumbling with her hands because she was unsure where to put them exactly.  She listened intently, analyzing each and every sound.  What that "pop" coming from the dryer downstairs, or was someone here?  The whir of the fan seemed to resound in her ears.  She wished it was quieter so she could listen.  On the other hand, she couldn't turn it off because then the stifling air might suffocate her.  She already couldn't breathe.  The people in the photos on the wall seemed to stare at her.  Their smiles seemed to morph into sinister sneers.  The baby dolls about the room reminded her of bodies.  Suddenly, a lock clicked and the door handle turned...

In the Garden- Tuesday's Writing Prompt- Teachers Write

You can find the full writing prompt here: http://www.katemessner.com/blog/, but this one is a three-parter.

First part of the prompt:  Create a character with conflict. 

  - Conflict: Mom trying to be the best she can be at being a mom, but still keeping house, being a good wife, taking care of work, being a part of charity work, etc. 

Second part: Take your character to a memory of a garden and describe, describe, describe. 

   -When the world got too busy, she often thought back to peaceful childhood memories.  One memory, in particular, took place in the garden at her childhood home.  A short walk from her front door was one of her favorite places--the family garden.  It was beautiful and peaceful.  She smiled happily as thought of helping her dad plant the garden.  The earth was cool and soft as they pushed seeds into it.  Soon, the garden would be a kaleidoscope of vegetables: potatoes, carrots, peppers, corn on the cob, and others.  She loved helping her dad here.  It was their special place.  Near one of the corners stood their apple tree, sweet tasty apples adorning the branches.  Along another side of the garden stood a row of lilac bushes.  She had always loved the lilacs.  As she would lean in to smell their rich purple blooms, she was swept away to a peaceful place.  The strong, heady scent filled her nostrils and instantly calmed her.  

Third part:  Bring these two together.  What can the character learn about her time in the garden.

-Remember the time in her childhood garden, the young mom realized that she was doing all that she wanted to do for her daughter and for herself as a person.  Just as she remembered spending time with her dad, she knew that her own daughter would remember the many times they spent together.  She knew those memories were good ones and would bring her daughter joy.  She also knew that she couldn't feel guilty about the other parts of her life.  She never, ever put anything or anyone above her daughter.  However, she wanted her daughter to know that it was healthy and wonderful to be a well-rounded person, to go after things you love and are passionate about, and to have a career that makes you complete.  The only way to teach her these lessons about life was to show her.  She must lead by example. 

Before I die, I want to...

All right, this is the Monday morning warm-up for Teacher's Write.  Yes, I understand that it is no longer Monday morning, but I am off work this week.  This means that mornings are devoted to my daughter, not my computer or myself.  So.. now Grace is asleep and it is my "me" time.  So.. this morning Jo Knowles shared some pictures of chalkboards she had seen up on vacation.  They had lots of spots for people to fill in the statement, "Before I die, I want to..."   You can see the pictures and prompt, by going here: http://jbknowles.livejournal.com/475287.html. Jo pushed us to answer this question for both ourselves and any characters we are currently writing about.  I am not working any writing project, so I suppose I will just make my own little bucket list:)  

Disclaimers: 

1.  Obviously, this list can never be complete.  I think of things daily that I would like to see or do.

2.  Also, some of these are obviously more important than others.  That doesn't mean I don't want to do the smaller things as well:) 

My Bucket List as of July 2, 2013 at 12:04 am:

Before I die, I want to: 

• See my daughter grow up.
• Have grandchildren I get to spoil.
• Grow old with my husband. 
• Live a long, happy, healthy, cancer-free life.
• See a cure for cancer.
• Lose about 15-20 lbs and keep it off. 
• Get into an exercise routine and stick with it.
• Get two more tattoos:  a pink ribbon and my daughter's name.
• Watch my sister get married and have kids of her own because she'd be a kick-ass mom.
• Be the best mom I can possibly be.
• Help my daughter plan her wedding.
• Live to be 100 and have my picture in the paper (haha, This was a dream of mine when I was little for whatever reason.  However silly the picture thing is, I still like the dream)
• Have a successful photography business on the side.
• Have a long, successful teaching career.
• Obtain a second master's in Speech Communications.
• Continue working with Relay for Life and possibly be chair some day of my local event. 
• Write a book.
• Get an article or book published. 
• Take my daughter to Disney World. 
• Take another cruise. 
• Travel to the following places: Ireland, Italy, Greece, the town the Cedar Cove series is based off of (can't think of it at the moment), Wine Country in California
• Have another baby
• Watch my daughter and nephews graduate high school, and college if they decide to go.
• Have a leadership position in my department
• Have a surprise party thrown for me at some point 
• Raise my daughter to be smart, sweet, intelligent, fun, and to walk in God's ways
• To read the entire Bible

Sometimes...

My Tuesday quck-write for Teachers Write:)  Here's a link to the orginal post if you want to see: http://www.katemessner.com/blog/.

Sometimes.. in those quiet moments,
my heart nearly pounds out of my chest
with love for my daughter.
When playtime is done for the day,
and she smells like lavender baby soap,
and all she wants to do is snuggle.

My heart melts as she gives me her award-winning, toothy grin,
as she says, "I love you, Mommy!"
We snuggle deep in the comfortable recliner,
covering ourselves with a soft, warm blanket.
As she settles in, she whispers,
"Sing me a song. Sing me my song, please."
And she falls asleep to "Amazing Grace."

Why is writing important?

I have had a whirlwind semester, and, sadly, have not made the time to sit down and write on here since January.  I'm hoping to fix that this summer:)  I'm once again do the Teachers Write workshop with author Kate Messner.  Although it is late, I'm finally getting a chance to do my Monday "morning" warmup.  To see the warmup, you can visit Jo Knowles's blog at http://jbknowles.livejournal.com/. 

So.. why is writing important? Ironically, I love writing for more reasons than I could probably ever write down:)  One of the biggest reasons is that I've always found that I express myself better when I write than when I speak.  This is especially true if I'm emotionally invested in the topic.  It helps to be able to pause and think, to organize my thoughts, to add words at my own pace, and to DELETE.  Isn't it nice to be able to instantly take back words and thoughts before someone else can read them?  We can't do that when we're talking.  No matter how many times the judge tells the jury to disregard something, once something is spoken, it can never truly be taken back.  So, yes, I do enjoy that delete button.  My dramatic side especially loves that button.  

Another of my favorite reasons for writing is true both for myself as an individual and for myself as a teacher.  Writing helps us LEARN:D  I once had a professor that often used the quote, "How do I know what I know until I see what I have to say."  He often argued that we often knew much more than we realized.  He thought writing helped with this realization and both as a student and teacher, I wholeheartedly agree.  Writing helps organize thoughts and requires us to really think about an answer.  This helps us realize everything we know about a topic.  The past few years, I have been teaching a class for struggling readers.  Because the subject is difficult for them, many students have a hard time speaking up in class.  Others really take their time about answering.  So... in my efforts to fix this problem, I started having them write their answers before answering aloud.  I require them to write all of our key answers in their books before I will let anyone even raise their hand.  At first they were frustrated by this.  However, guess what happened?  Classroom participation went up exponentially!  When given the time to think about their answer, possibly even look back to the text, these students not only knew what they were talking about, but they were often eager to share that information.  Confidence and smiles grew:) 

Finally, I will end with the fact that writing helps humans to heal.  Every time I have gone through something rough in my life, I have turned to writing.  It helps get emotions out in a safe way.  There's no one to judge.  No one to comment.  The blank page (or blank screen as the case may be) is the ultimate impartial listener.  Sometimes it's nice to be able to put my entire heart out onto a page without having to put on my "brave face" or try and make my listener comfortable.  Sometimes I need to write without apologies.  Sometimes I need to be vulnerable and afraid.  I need to let everything out.  This is my way of moving past bad things.  Consequently, I have a stack of notebooks on-hand at school at all times.  Every year, I always have one or two students at least come talk to me about something big they are going through.  I give them a notebook and share my own coping mechanism:) 

Writing is an extension of the soul :D