One thing I learned very early in my husband's military career is to cherish every friendship and relationship you make. Say the things you need to say to people you love because nobody knows what "tomorrow" will bring and you might never have another chance. Frequently military life is filled with a series of goodbyes as people get orders and move away. And I mean civilian life is not much different. We change jobs (or others do), move to different places leaving neighbors and/or friends behind. I remember a boss I had not too long after I moved back to my hometown who, for the short time I was working for him, was a light in some dark times. His happy, funny personality, quick smile, and shared love of the Blues reminded me that Hope wasn't so far away and provided proof that there were still a lot of good people in the world at a time when it seemed they were in rare supply.

 When my youngest daughter joined the Navy and moved away, in the back of my mind I was thinking, "If I see her twice a year for the next twenty years that's only forty times I'll see her again in my life!" Considering she'd been a daily part of my world for the first eighteen years of her life, this was NOT a happy thought, even though I was over the Moon with the joy of what the future holds for her. Still, she is and always will be my baby, so letting go, saying goodbye. hurts like crazy.​ 

Of course, if you think about it, in the span of a simple day, you may cross paths with a hundred people, or more, that you'll probably never see again. To combat this harsh truth and my own situational awareness (and to keep from driving myself absolutely bonkers), I stay current in the lives of those military connections I've made over the years, friends who are like my family, through social media, celebrating their highs and lows from a distance but just as fervently. And I keep close others, as well, who've become dear to me through the internet or jobs I've worked. I've even reconnected to people I knew in high school, building friendships that are more relevant and mature due to time, age, and personal growth. One of those friends, a lovely lady named April, reached out to me after she found out she had breast cancer and we talked, laughed and built a lovely connection deeper than anything we'd ever had in high school, before she lost her battle. God, how I cherish the moments and memories we got the opportunity to share before she was gone.

Several weeks ago as I was scrolling randomly through social media, a pop-up list of "People You Might Know" came up and in it was the brother of a man I'd briefly dated in high school. Out of curiosity I clicked on it and as I was reading various things from his page, I discovered that his brother (that charming boy I'd dated so long ago) had died. "What? Wait, that can't be right," I thought and began looking for more details. Eventually I found his obituary and read it a dozen times thinking there must have been a mistake. But of course there wasn't. He hadn't even made it to his 50th birthday. Not long after I moved back to my hometown, I got a friend request from David. After I added him, we started catching up. We talked about all of the things we'd done in the years that had passed and shared memories about how  young and stupid we were "back in the day". It was fun seeing him as a grandfather. He was adorable with those precious babies and I enjoyed teasing him about it. He got to return the ribbing as I joined him in the "Grandparent Club" in 2015. He was so supportive of my writing career. He always read my blogs and frequently would message me once I posted a new one and we'd talk about them. He was also blown away (and pretty much said so, verbatim) when I told him that I had based a character in my new novel about him. I told him that the character would continue to grow and play a bigger role as the series went on. And when my novel debuted, he was one of the first to purchase it. He even wrote the second review I received and reading it was pure joy (see below). I was so happy that in the absence of time we'd spent, he'd built a loving, wonderful life for himself. I was also so appreciative of his staunch support. As my father's condition worsened, David and I spoke less frequently and by the time my father passed away, we had gone many months without contact. I lost my father in April of 2017 and David died months later in October. I have wondered often since our last conversation what was happening in his life, but I assumed when he was ready, he'd tell me. What was happening was...he was gone, and I didn't know. 

I sit here now racking my brain, wondering if over the years I've said all the things I need to say to those who've passed through my life and had such a powerful impact. It is important to me that they know. I mentally scroll through my mind, contemplating harsh words I've shared with others, wondering if I apologized when my words might have hurt them and made amends when and where I could. And as for David, I didn't get to say goodbye, but I know there was never a harsh word between us, even when we broke up all those years ago. I know that he was aware of the impact he made in my life and that I was genuinely happy about the man he'd become. As for the rest, I just remain diligently mindful of the people I have contact with, remembering that there is no promise for tomorrow and taking great care with what I say to each of them "today".

Review from David on my book Desperate Measures (he gave it five out of five stars):

titanboss reviewed on on July 20, 2014
After reading the book,it was something I would definitely recommend. If you like Clancy or Ludlum you will like Schaefer. The author had a unique way of writing the story that is a believable fiction. Instead of the lead characters being a super spy with a million gadgets or IQ of 175 hers were again believable. Lead character Abby is someone a normal reader could relate to. Caught in a uncompromising position that is realistic to the reader and gives you the sense of what would I do in that situation. The book does and will keep you on the edge and wanting more. It was an outstanding first offering and very good read. Eagerly awaiting the broad canvas Amy will interpret as Abby travels to Italy.
(reviewed 20 days after purchase)

On the last day of school, one of my 1st Period students asked, "Mrs. Schaefer what are you doing for the summer?" "Well," I said, "reading, traveling, cleaning, gardening and my favorite...sleeping IN!" Most of the class groaned at the reading declaration (but not all, which is huge progress), and nearly all of them laughed at sleeping in. They were anxious to tell me about the video games they'd be playing, as well as trips to the pool. Many of them  also touted my own desire to just sleep in! And while they almost all told me about how excited they were about the time off, I know that many will be in various precarious circumstances over the break (which keeps a nagging worry for them at the back of my mind...occupational hazard).

As I watch State Legislators haggle and argue about education issues such as the budget for the next school year, I wonder how many of them are truly invested in the welfare of these children. Based on a lot of the decisions I see them making, their actions scream not many. I could elaborate with a list of facts and details, arguments and opinions, turning this post into a education political shit storm, but that's not what today's thoughts are about. Today's thoughts are focused on books, in general, and a love of reading, specifically. I tell my classes year after year two mantras with staunch regularity--"Knowledge is power" and "Falling in love with reading is your escape." I then spend an entire school year backing up those two ideas with evidence to support that they are undeniably true. In fact, if I think about it, I could make an argument for every single lesson plan I've taught having its roots in these two themes. The truth of this makes me ridiculously happy because it is my goal that every child who crosses my path takes away two things, the feeling of their own empowerment and excitement over a book! 

Since many of my former students fairly regularly pop onto my website to see what I'm up to, the first book on my summer reading list is Shoot Like a Girl: One Woman's Dramatic Fight in Afghanistan and on the Home Front by Mary Jennings Hegar. I am normally not much of a non-fiction reader unless it involves current local, state, or world news, but when your daughter hands you a book filled with post-it notes where parts that resonated with her are marked and says, "Mom, you've gotta read this", you do! Usually when I crack the spine of a book, I want it to take me somewhere "else", away from my life which is already inundated daily with harsh truths. Opening this book and delving its depths, however, is like going on a silent journey through the pages with my daughter. I can clearly see connections to her own life, her father's military career, and the overlap weaving in and out of the two of them. It's beautiful, in and of itself, and made even more lovely because the author of this book has such a strong, empowering voice on her own. 

Thank you for the book recommendation, Freckles. As for the rest of you, if you haven't read a great book in awhile, now's the time to start one!

The desks are scrubbed and stacked, the brick-a-brac is stored away in cabinets or boxes, and I am officially home for the summer break. This means I'm currently as unbusy as I could possibly be since the beginning of 2019, and yet...I wonder if my students are getting enough to eat and if they're safe, happy. I watch more news, read more social articles (probably not a smart move) and I'm more frustrated than ever at the state of the world that we're leaving for our youth. I am angry at the actions of so many in charge who seem to be playing a personal game of greed and self-promoting agendas at the expense of so many lives, leaving thousands struggling day to day. And, like, who cares?

People are living their lives, fighting their own battles. Who has time to invest in a system, a process, where little seems to change and circumstances continue to deteriorate? Climate change? Look, I've got to pay my car payment, my power bill. I can't be worrying about what Mother Nature is going to do (or big business, or government...). I've got to keep food on the table. State Legislators underpaying teachers, getting kick-backs from big business products created for the classroom, Health Care cuts piggybacked onto other laws people with self-serving agendas are trying to push through, what can any of us do about these things? Hell, I should be on a float in my pool right now listening to the birds, watching the clouds float lazily by while my biggest worry is what I'm cooking for dinner. I mean, it IS my summer break and honestly I worked my tail off the last school year going full-throttle doing the multitude things that teachers do, much of which happens outside of a classroom. Instead, these social issues are heavy on my mind (including what I, personally, am doing or not doing about them). 

I come back to the question, "Who cares?" And I swear it's true, if you look for the negative, you will certainly, easily find it...but the alternate is also true. When you look for the positives, you'll find those, too; a news story on "60 Minutes" about a group of kids who are suing the US Government for their role in climate change; hundreds of thousands of teachers marching on their home state Capitals, advocating for the children and their colleagues on issues that should have been "fixed" by sub-standard Legislators long ago; Law Enforcement around the country taking part in programs like the Lip-Sync Challenge in order to help build stronger relationships with their communities. And then there are people like Magnus MacFarlane-Barrow who started a foundation called "Mary's Meals" that feeds children around the world (see video below) and is making such an impact in these precious young lives. 

​My three-year-old grandson and I love the movie Zootopia. One of my favorite lines from Judy Bunny is, "Ready to go out and make the world a better place?" I'm not always sure of what my role for doing that is, or if what I am doing is enough, but it's certainly something I am often thinking about. The answers are as elusive as those lightning bugs my grandson likes to chase, but like him, I am not easily deterred. For now I'll keep using my voice, teaching tiny humans, and pondering other ways to use my "powers" for good. 

​

The day I decided not to allow my father to continue playing "absentee" in my life (thank you Jim), I drove to his house, sat on his living room floor at his feet and spilled out a childhood of shit stories that he didn't want to hear and I didn't want to say, but it had to be done. At one point, I said, "And all that time do you know what I kept hoping and praying for?" He shook his head, not wanting to speak, and to be fair after all he'd heard, most of which was "new" to him, I couldn't blame him. I told him, "I kept waiting for you to come in with your cape and save me, save that little girl who felt the world and adults around her were surely going to crush her to dust. I needed a hero and I was hoping it was going to be you. And the sad truth, at least for that little girl, was that no hero ever came. You didn't come" He was quiet a long time before he said, "Sorry about that," in that gruff voice of his. "Yeah, me too," I told him and I meant it. Sorry for a childhood of innocence lost, sorry for a relationship that never happened, no matter how desperately I wanted it to, and sorry that it had taken so long for one of us to "force" the issue, look at it from all angles, good, bad, and truly ugly.

Now I type with shaky hands and  eyes still wet with too many useless tears because my not-so-heroic dad is gone. And I find I miss him as much now as I did when he was alive, in fact in that regard little has changed. But I remember what that conversation and confession from above gave me...time. I sat with him during nearly all of his chemo treatments, whether he liked it or not. I held his frail hand and looked up stupid, useless information on my phone to entertain him (except that one time when he had me look up the actual chemicals in his particular chemo cocktail and read to him what was in them). I sat in waiting rooms where we chatted mostly about the inane while we waited for doctors to consult, test results, and the word from various nurses that he was "good to go". I got into a routine of calling him every morning just to see how his night had gone and wish him a good day. And three days before he died, our morning conversation went like this:

*Pulling into my parking space at work, listening to his phone ring. He picks up.
Me: Hey, Dad.
Dad: Morning, girl. (I could hear the tired in his voice, even though he was wide awake.)
Me: How was your night?
Dad: *long pause* About the same. But I'm awake, I'm alive, and you're OK. Today, I'll take it.
Me: For sure (reminding myself to NOT cry because I had a classroom full of students waiting for me). Have a good day, Dad. Try to eat something, okay?
Dad: We'll see. Love you girl.
Me: Love  you too.

I hung up and held it together, which is to say I pulled a trick I learned from my ornery father and shoved those emotions so deep down I'm surprised it didn't crack my entire body into a million pieces. I got through the day, and so did he, but both of us knew at our nightly conversation that the end was close.

And here I am, two years later sitting in my quiet house on Father's Day uncertain about what I'm supposed to feel. What I DO feel is angry and confused...and quietly sad. It's weird because it's like that little me of long ago is standing (or sitting) beside me and together we're still asking ourselves, "What in the absolute hell????" In the end, she and I saved ourselves (no need for a daddy superhero). In the end, she and I fought our way back into Dad's life. And we stood with him, every step, until the very end...because that's what you do when you love someone. You stick. Even when it hurts, even when it's so hard! You stick.

To my Dad--I know your Father's Day is happy, because today you are cancer free and no longer in pain. And I forgive you, even though I'm still pretty mad about some things. I'm working through them and promise you I'll get there.