I had never heard of Little Willie poems until last week. I was trying to explain them to David, prior to reading my attempts, and I found a website that had many of Harry Graham’s original poems. I had to repost a few, as I found them hilarious! Enjoy!
In 2018, I became a widow. I was told by several people that I would need to get used to my new life. When I heard this, I knew it was true, but it was unfair, because I didn’t choose any of it. In 2019, I lost my son. This was the ultimate game changer. With the help of counseling and the support of loved ones I have come to realize that I need to make choices that are for me! How is this a change? Well, when I look at my past, there is nothing that I regret, and certainly wouldn’t change my marriage or children, but I do see times when I made decisions, not on what I wanted, but on what I felt was “right”.
So, now that I have begun to learn what this means I was actually put to the test a few weeks ago. I was given the chance to possibly get back teaching in a classroom. I was appreciative of the offer and felt good to be asked, but when I thought about it I said to myself, “I don’t want to be in a classroom again.” Since my last teaching job I had told the students I worked with that I was there to stay as a teacher. My students meant a lot to me. That was an honest statement. I told them I would only leave if it were to progress in my career and get an Assistant Principal job or something like that.
When I didn’t go back this past fall, I felt badly. I didn’t tell the kids, I didn’t even know I wasn’t going back. After my son passed I just couldn’t go work with adolescents again. It was too painful. To this day I have always hoped that they knew I wasn’t teaching at another school. So when this opportunity was presented, not only did I not want to be in the classroom again, I thought how much it would hurt those students who I had told I would be there for. I would have felt bad if they learned I was teaching at another school, not with them. I know this is what life is about, and that not all things go the way we plan, but when I declined the opportunity to get back in the classroom, I knew I was making the right decision. I felt good about it for myself, and for keeping my word to those children I hope I have touched in some way.
Miguel rolled over on the thin mat that he used as a bed. Being transient meant sleeping in strange places, sometimes outdoors, which had prompted him to take a mat when it was offered at one of the shelters last year. Looking at the old fold-away clock his father had given him as a child, he saw it was almost midnight, not time to leave yet. This clock was the only thing he had been able to retain over all the years, through all the living arrangements. It reminded him of his father, a man who was rarely available, always working or entertaining. Was the clock a joke made by his father questioning him to find time to spend with him? He didn’t know, never would, as his father had died years ago. He hadn’t been there when he died, he didn’t even know where he was buried, but he would always have the clock.
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