Holidays Archives - Seams Like a Story

January 5, 2024January 5, 2024

New Year 2024

Resolved: firmly determined to do something.

balloons and 2024 numerals — Happy New Year 2024

Here they come–resolutions to be better, start fresh, wipe the slate clean. Who doesn’t want to lose a few pounds…eat healthier…finish writing that book (I say this as I’ve turned into a total couch sloth this week and I’m determined to finish the remains of the cookies and candies my family left behind when they left after Christmas)

I get it. As a former teacher, I’m goal oriented. In fact, in the later years of my profession, administrators expected us to post daily leaning goals for students and evaluated us on this. I usually engage in the New Year’s practice of setting personal resolutions, and goals for my writing life as well. But before I dove in this year, a dear friend posted a quote from Donna Ashworth that caused me to pause and rethink. It reads in part:

“I don’t see the need for you to resolve to become a whole new you, when you are already so very much indeed.”

This prompted me to look to a favorite resource where I found this from Jon Kabat-Zinn:

“Maybe the fear is that we are less than we think we are, when the actuality of it is that we are much much more.

Now I’m confused. Should I refrain from making resolutions or goals this year joining many who say “My New Year’s Resolution is to make no resolutions.” I sat with these words swirling around in my brain for several days, and I think I figured it out. For me.

What if I see the new year not as an end of my old self, or a beginning of my new self, but a continuation? Can I look back at all I have experienced, the people who have loved and influenced me, the wisdom I’ve gained, the person I’ve become to get me here, to this day in January 2024, and build on that? Can continue to grow and learn, and embrace this new year, wherever it takes me, knowing that right now, I’m enough–much more than I even realize? Yes! I’m resolved.

Hello 2024, it’s me Deb. Let’s do this!

sunrise over a lake — 2024:A new year dawns.

Threads of Thought

What is something you are proud of yourself for right now?

How can you build on that foundation in 2024?

Have a great year my friends!

Warm up with a good book!

http://amazon.com/author/debravandeventer/

December 21, 2023December 21, 2023

Holiday Travel

A personal reflection.

The tip of an airplane wing flying over a city at night

“Strings of streetlights, even stoplights, blink a bright red and green, as the shoppers rush home with their treasures.” (Silver Bells, my mom’s favorite Christmas song)

I’m flying “home”, back to the Midwest for the Holidays. During the three hour flight, I try to occupy myself with a book, but my mind races to holiday plans– making my list, checking it twice, or truth be told, I’m anxious that I haven’t even started my list , or Christmas shopping, or…sigh…

I glance at my current read, which has many references to Our Town, by Thornton Wilder. In the play, Emily looks down on her former life and remarks:

“It goes so fast. Do any human beings ever realize life while they live it? Every, every minute.”

I pause, and look out the oval window at the city lights as the plane prepares to land. It’s late evening and traffic snakes along busy streets like glittering beads on a necklace. People are going home from work, or taking kids to practice, or shopping for the holidays, or picking up a takeout dinner. “Shoppers rush home with their treasures” moving in a blur from one distraction to another with the busyness we call our lives. It goes so fast and I wonder–am I noticing it, my life, or am I simply rushing through?

The plane bounces down with an abrupt deceleration that pushes me forward, then back against my seat. Lights flood the cabin and passengers hop up to collect their luggage (that may have shifted during flight). I join the throng and exit the plane, soon to reconnect with friends and family for holiday celebrations.

My luggage is fine, yet something has shifted, ever so slightly.

On the car ride from the airport to our final destination, I make a silent commitment to “realize life while I’m living it”. To try to be fully present this season, through shopping and gatherings and holiday movies and decorating. The busy days and the quiet times. To really see and love and appreciate my friends and family. Every, every minute.

It’s a precious gift I’m giving myself. A tall order. I’m going to need lots of reminders.

Threads of Thought

a note the says "every, every minute." on a Christmas tree

October 23, 2023October 23, 2023

Ghosts of Halloween Past

Reflections of a former teacher

(Originally published in October 2021, this post has been updated and republished for your enjoyment)

It’s that time of year again. Pumpkin carving, trick-or-treaters, classroom parties. Being retired, I no longer have to plan and take part in classroom Halloween activities. But I’ve experienced my share of them during my 37 year career as a kindergarten, first-grade, and fourth-grade teacher. Here are my Ghosts of Halloween past:

The Kindergarten Years

One of my first Halloweens as a teacher…Jeans, straw hat, hubby’s flannel shirt…A Scarecrow? Spooky owls with egg carton eyes hang from the ceiling.

I started my teaching career as a kindergarten teacher in 1975. During that time kindergarten was a half-day program in public schools, if they even offered it at all. In one sense, the half-day time frame was a great setup for Halloween. The students came to school dressed in costume and we played some games (Guess who’s under the mask, Halloween Bingo, maybe a simple art activity.) A school-wide parade would follow. Kindergarteners always led the way, and we picked up the other-grade classes as we wound our way around the school. By the end of the morning, we had a snack–homemade and extra sugary–brought in by parents. If you were lucky enough to reserve one of the school’s video projectors, you could end the session with Charlie Brown’s Great Pumpkin. By then, it was time to send the little goblins home on a sugar high for the parents to deal with.

Half-day Kindergarten teachers had one disadvantage, however. After a quick lunch break, during which I cleaned the classroom and reset my activities, I had to get ready to party all over again with the afternoon session, pretending that I was equally enthused the second time around.

First Grade

Sometime during my years as a first grade teacher, things began to change. The first wave of social consciousness and health awareness hit the school scene and altered our holiday celebrations. Some parents objected to Halloween on religious grounds and did not want their children to dress up in objectionable costumes such as witches or devils. In some years, we banned the word “Halloween” and called the celebration at the end of October “Harvest Festival”. Students could dress in costume if they came as a book character. (“But Mrs. VanDeventer…. Spiderman is in a book!”)

…who arrived to tame Miss Nelson’s unruly class in this James Marshall book

During this era, school officials wanted to focus on health. Sugary treats were banned in favor of “healthy snacks” and teachers scrambled to come up with ways to make carrot sticks and cheese look like fun. (I remember making spiders out of Ritz Cracker-and-peanut butter bodies with pretzel-stick legs and raisin eyes. Yum..)

Fourth Grade

During my last three years of teaching (2015-2018) I was a fourth-grade teacher. Halloween was back and costumes were allowed. However, you had many, many state standards to cover and couldn’t afford to “take a day off” to party. Movies were not allowed unless there was a specific ‘tie-in” with the curriculum. Sorry Charlie (Brown.) Students rotated through Halloween themed math, science, and language arts activities throughout the day, keeping everyone engaged until the end-of-the-day snack. Unhealthy treats were allowed in moderation… except now everyone has allergies. No peanuts, gluten, dairy, tree nuts…..

Retired

It’s fun to think about those days and sometimes, I really do miss the kids, the excitement, the fun. But now I’m happy to say that I celebrate Halloween with pictures of my grandchildren in their costumes and by sitting in my driveway on a warm Arizona night handing out candy to the neighborhood kids.

And when the candy runs out I turn off the lights and retreat to the quiet of my living room where I put the Great Pumpkin DVD in the player (yes, I still have one…my adult children make fun of me) and savor the handful of Snickers I’ve held back for the occasion.

Threads of Thought

What are some of your ghosts of Halloween Past?

How will you celebrate this year?

Favorite candy?( you know, the ones you sneak before the trick-or-treaters come?)

Out of the Crayon Box: Thoughts on Teaching, Retirement, and Life http://amazon.com/author/debravandeventer

May 29, 2023May 29, 2023

Memorial Day

The Heart Remembers

The following is an adaptation of my story, “The Heart Remembers” originally published in “Monsoon Madness” (Oro Valley Writer’s Forum Anthology vol. 1)

When I was a child, I would help Mom and Grandma wrap empty one-pound coffee cans in foil, then fill them with bright pink and soft white Peonies from our back yard. On Memorial Day, We would take them to the cemetery and carefully place the bouquets on the gravesites of Grandpa and two of my mother’s siblings who had died in infancy. Through the years, the annual pilgrimage to the cementery faded like old Peony blossoms. I grew up, I moved away, I was too busy, I forgot.

Years later, after taking Mom home from a Memorial Day family gathering, I was helping put away groceries in her apartment in the assisted living complex. She was no longer driving, and was having more and more problems with memory.

“Debbie, can you take me to the cemetery? I want to put these flowers on my mom and dad’s grave.” She pointed to a potted plant she’s gotten as a door prize at a recent luncheon.

Her question took me by surprise. To be honest, in all of my efforts to entertain people over the holiday weekend I’d forgotten the memorial part. It was ironic that the one with memory issues was the one to remember this.

“Do you remember how to get there, Mom? I haven’t been since I was a kid.”

“Of course,” she said indignantly.

It soon became obvious that she didn’t. After several frustrating starts and stops, I resorted to using my phone’s GPS. When we finally reached Valley View, she lit up like a kid at Christmas.

“Oh look! This is so nice!” she exclaimed when she saw the American Flags flanking the road and placed on graves to honor men and women who have died in service to our country.

My heart sank as I looked past the flags to countless roads winding through the cemetery. How would we ever find the sites we had come to decorate?

“I think we should stop at the office to get a map or something,” I suggested.

“No, I know the way,” Mom said

Here we go again, I thought. But amazingly, road by road, turn by turn, Mom navigated us with centainty.

“Stop here!” she exclaimed. “This is it.”

She jumped out of th car and started up a small hill clutching the pot of flowers. I followed behind, fully expecting to have to start the hunt all over again. When I got to the top of the hill, there was Mom standing in front of the family gravesites. After lovingly placing the flowers she began to recall stories of her family and events from her past. I let the stories fill me, no longer in a hurry to rush home.

As the stories ended, we made our way back to Mom’s apartment where I got her settled for the week. I knew we had a long road ahead of us, but for today she had found her way. She had found her memories. As I helped her place medictions in the plastic pill box labeled with the days of the week, I wondered about things forgotten and things remembered. I thought back to what the doctor had said about the mystery surrounding memory loss.

“It seems,” she said, “that shallow memories are often forgotten by the brain first, but the things that are closest to us, deep in our souls, these are the things the heart remembers.”

I gave my mother a hug before leaving, hanging on longer than I usually do. This day, this memory, this time with my mother…this my heart will remember.

Threads of Thought

Author’s Note: Memorial Day, originally known as Decoration Day is set aside to honor women and men who have died in service to our country. Growing up in the midwest, our family tradition was to visit the cemetery on Memorial Day to remember those who were no longer with us.

A book with a blue cover and a row of crayons across the bottom. The title reads "Out of the CRayon Box" and a daffodil lays across the book

http://amazon.com/author/debravandeventer

December 22, 2022December 22, 2022

The Music Box

A Christmas Memory

When we moved to Arizona, I insisted we bring our Christmas tree with us… the artificial one that had been ours since our kids had grown and we stopped going to Tower’s Christmas tree farm to search for the perfect tree to bring home.

For several years now, we have assembled the tree and placed it in our Tucson home. But this year I decided not to. Ed and I are traveling back to our home town to celebrate the holidays with our family and it doesn’t make sense to drag everything out for a few short weeks. I thought I’d be OK with the decision, but around the first of December, I was feeling a little lost.

I played some Christmas music, plugged in my “Evergreen” candle warmer and set out a few of my favorite things like the nativity set I bought when our children were young. We started with the basic stable and Holy Family, then Ed bought a new figure to tuck in my stocking each year until we ended up with a full cast of characters. The kids used to fight about whose turn it was to arrange it on the mantle each year. We had to keep a post-it note in the box to keep track. One got the even numbered year, one the odd.

This year I also set out the ceramic Santa that belonged to my grandparents and the Boyd’s Bear figurines Ed bought for me each year.

And then I set out the music box I have displayed each year since 1973 when my mother gave it to me. It is a small red box splashed with golden stars and a Hummel painting of the Holy Family on the lid. The date, stenciled on the top, 1973, is significant. Ed and I announced our engagement that Thanksgiving, and on Christmas Eve, he surprised me with a ring.

The vintage music box is beautiful. The years have taken their toll on the delicate inner workings and it no longer plays Silent Night when you open the lid. But the real treasure remains inside where, 49 years ago, my mother tucked a note. The paper is yellowed and fragile, the lettering is faint with age and blurry through my tears, but I know the words by heart.

Dear Deb,

Just couldn’t resist this music box. The year 1973 will mean a lot to you and Ed and I wanted you to have something special. Mom and Dad

May you always have as many happy years as we have had and hope to have in the future. We’re both real happy for you and Ed.

My parents had many happy years together. Sadly, Dad died just shy of their 50^th wedding anniversary twenty-two years ago. Ed and I willcelebrate our 49th this summer.

I’ll visit Mom when I’m back in the Midwest. Short visits are best as her memory is fading and it is difficult for her to keep up a conversation for too long. This time, I’ll bring pictures of the music box and read her words back to her. Perhaps it will spark a glimmer of recognition, perhaps not. But I know I’m in her heart, the place where she keeps her most precious memories tucked away, like the words of love she placed in a special music box 49 years ago.

Threads of Thought

What items bring back special memories for you?

Have a wonderful Holiday season! Treasure memories from the past and make new memories to treasure for a lifetime.

Special thanks to you, my subscribers, readers, commenters, and followers! You are the heartbeat of this blog. I can’t wait to see what “seams” like a story in 2023!

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