Category Archives: love

The List

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While the road ahead is straightforward professionally, that couldn’t be further from the truth when it comes to my personal life.  Maybe that is why it has been on my mind so much lately.  It has even taken over my dreams.  Last night, as I cleaned out my blogroll and searched for new blogs, I came across quite possibly the most definitive list of qualities to look for in a man.  I was actually toying with the idea of writing one myself (not here, but someplace way more private), but Ali over at Gimme Some Oven beat me to it.  Here it is in all its glory:  The list.  There are only two things I would add:  It would be nice not to have to cook alone, and he would have to like to read to some extent.  I don’t mind cooking, but I can’t stand cooking alone.  At the very least keep me company!  Also, I love books and reading – anything to do with language.  I don’t care as much about what he reads as long as we can intelligently talk about books.

Bottom line:  There isn’t much to disagree with on her list.  I completely understand when she talks about being too willing to compromise.  There are some things that should remain non-negotiable.  I learned this the hard way, and I would have saved myself a lot of time and energy if I hadn’t tried so hard to make things work.  Sometimes things are meant to fail.  I am much happier single than I ever was in a relationship.  That is what scares me and keeps me up at night.  Am I meant to be alone – or have I just not been in the right relationship yet?

A Fresh Start

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trust-the-magic

No matter how many times I start over again, it never gets old.  I love feeling as though this time I may get it right.  This time, there are many loose ends I need to complete.  When I think about all I have experienced over the last five years, this isn’t surprising.  First, I moved in with my grandmother in November 2012 to help take care of her.  Nearing 88 years old at the time, she needed company and no longer wished to drive.  Unfortunately, she became incredibly sick that winter and ended up needing nursing home care.

A year later, I decided to go back to school to earn my teaching degree.  I started substitute teaching and taking classes.  In April 2014, my other grandmother passed away.  Even though I didn’t see her daily, I was close to her too.  Shortly thereafter, my relationship with my boyfriend of 10 years dissolved in the worst way possible.  In May it will be nearly four years, and it still hurts at times, even if I have no regrets about the outcome.

As I finished my classes and student teaching, my surviving grandmother became less active and generally sicker.  She passed away just shy of her 92nd birthday.  On Sunday, it will mark one year since she passed away.  There are several other details I could include here, but I had to see for myself, in writing, some of the major events that have marked these last several years.

I am still going through my grandmother’s things and mine as well.  I am still coming to terms with no longer being a student.  When I returned to the classroom after almost exactly 10 years since I graduated from Michigan State University, I realized how much I missed it.  Before I move ahead, it is necessary to appreciate where I have been.

It is now time for me to figure out what I want out of life.  There are some non-negotiables.  I will be a part of the canoe livery, I will have a teaching career, and I will eventually adopt.  It is the personal details that I need to work out, and I have no idea where to begin.  It is so tempting to compare myself to others and feel as though I should have accomplished more at this point in my life.  I just have to remind myself that it is my life and no one else’s.

fresh start

There Are No Words

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This fall, a certain set of circumstances made me begin to doubt myself in a way I never knew was possible.  As I have stated so many times here, the very first thing I ever remember wanting out of life is a family of my own.  For me, that means adoption.  I have questioned whether I will be able to do it on my own for quite some time, but this fall was different.  It was personal in a way I never imagined, and I began to doubt whether I truly want to be a mother at all.

It became a slippery slope, and I began to question everything in my life.  What do I really want?  I shouldn’t still be asking these questions at 36 (now 37).  I have failed so many times on so many levels that I began to wonder what is so fundamentally wrong with me.  After a while, I let go of certain dreams.  I would love to meet the right man, get married, and adopt.  After all this time, I am beginning to doubt that it will ever happen.

Over these last few trying weeks, I realized that I can’t give up on my dream of having a family.  I am supposed to be a mother.  Giving up on that dream, even briefly, left me absolutely devastated.  I will eventually be exactly where I need to be.  Until then, I will keep trying.  That is all I can do at this point.

Even as I write this, I wonder why I am sharing something so intensely personal.  As always, it comes down to this:  I know that I am not the only one struggling with these decisions.  If someone else can benefit by realizing that he or she is not alone, it will be more than worth it.

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New Year, Old Question

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Think for YourselfHere goes nothing. The new school year is upon us. In late June, I accepted a position teaching Spanish and world history at an alternative high school. At this point, as I have completed several professional development sessions and prepared my classroom with my colleagues, I can safely say that I feel right at home. I am eager to meet my students on Tuesday and Wednesday next week.

This upcoming school year is the culmination of several years of taking dozens classes at both the local community college and university, seemingly endless testing, and hundreds of hours in countless classrooms both as a student teacher and a substitute teacher. I am as ready as I will ever be. While it would be a flat out lie to say that I am not nervous, I can safely say that I prepared. Better yet, I am excited.

Over the last five years, I found my way out of depression and an awful relationship. I didn’t focus on anything other than completing my education and training to become a teacher. I am now well on my way to becoming “me” again. The questions I face now are as personal as it gets. I am now where I want to be with my career. I just need to stay on my current path. The same cannot be said for my personal life. Frankly, I am unsure of what I want anymore. It is true that I want more than anything to be a mom. That is non-negotiable. I will adopt. Beyond that, I do not know.

The details get me. I find myself wondering if I truly want to do this alone. I know I can do this on my own, but when I am completely honest, I do not want to raise a child alone. It doesn’t mean that I won’t or can’t do it alone. I know I can, and I will. At the same time, I want a man in my life that I can count on. I want someone to share all of this with day in, day out – an actual partner. For several reasons, many of which are way too personal to share here, I don’t see it happening. My instinct is to be as happy as possible alone, focusing on what I want and starting a family alone. I am afraid of shutting the right man out. It feels as though I am caught between doing nothing and risking utter humiliation. Again.

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Oh, We Have to Talk About Snape …

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Snape

I never intended to fall in love with another fictional character, but I did. Over the course of the seven Harry Potter novels, Professor Snape won my heart by his courage and undying love for Harry’s mother, Lily Potter. No other fictional character, with the possible exception of Fitzwilliam Darcy in Pride and Prejudice, can hold a candle to Professor Severus Snape. As much as I love Fitzwilliam Darcy and all of his wonderful brooding moodiness, he is now a distant second. I have to ask myself why. Why, out of the hundreds of fictional characters I’ve been exposed to over my lifetime, does Severus Snape stand out?

Always

First, from the moment he is introduced in Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone, I was intrigued. Maybe it is because I am a writer, but Snape had “story!” written all over him. He obviously had a past, and I wanted to know more. If you haven’t realized it by now, I always want to know more, and secrecy is a surefire way to keep my interest. I cut my teeth on mysteries and only lost interest when they became too predictable. I argue that Snape is the final and best mystery revealed in the Harry Potter series. It is the love story – and it is a story born out of true love – that drives the action. I can’t imagine if I had lived the rest of my life without reading the entire series.

Second, Snape stands out due to the complexity of his character. It is telling that I immediately purchased and read Snape: A Definitive Reading by Lorrie Kim after I finished Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. I became so caught up in the ending that I needed to go back and read the evidence. Kim’s Snape: A Definitive Reading painstakingly chronicles Snape’s actions throughout the entire series, even using quotes and page numbers. She provides just enough commentary to keep it from becoming too dry. It did help me more deeply appreciate the most complex fictional character I have ever come across.

Ever since I finished the series, I’ve asked myself why my favorite fictional characters from childhood – Laura from the Little House on the Prairie series, Anne of the Anne of Green Gables series, and Nancy from the Nancy Drew series – seem utterly dim when compared to the complexity of Snape? The answer is unbelievably simple. With the exception of Laura Ingalls, the characters mentioned above didn’t grow much throughout the course of the series, especially Nancy Drew. They were simply the same characters who were thrown into new situations. The fictional Laura is a special case because she did grow as a character in complexity and in age throughout the series. However, I find the real-life Laura Ingalls Wilder, the writer and mother who had a complex relationship with her only daughter, infinitely more interesting. Snape’s complexity is apparent from the beginning, but it doesn’t come front and center until the end of the series. I have nothing else to compare his character to at the moment. Nada.

Finally, Professor Snape’s love for Lily Potter and the courage he demonstrated in keeping both Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy safe, along with his final interactions with Dumbledore, almost defy the imagination. Yet, his entire life prepared him for and led him to the final events of the series. I can’t even begin to imagine how he managed to teach and face Harry Potter on a daily basis when all Snape could see in him was the man whom Lily Potter ultimately married. Snape felt responsible for James’ and Lily’s deaths, and he had a living, breathing reminder of that guilt and unrequited love in his classroom. Snape even managed to drill important lessons into his students’ heads outside of the classroom, knowledge that would ultimately help them survive. He may hold petty grudges and act extremely unprofessionally as a teacher, but he did get the job done.

After All This TIme

The Patronus

When I first read the scene in which Harry is led to the Sword of Gryffindor by the silver doe patronus, I knew that it was meant to be a pivotal point in the series, but I didn’t recognize just how pivotal it was until the final novel. We later learn that Snape’s patronus is Lily’s silver doe. He loved her that much. He never stopped loving her. If I were to write or describe magic, I would do so with the silver doe patronus scene in mind. So much love wrapped up in one simple, beautiful symbol. Not only is it a symbol of Snape’s undying, unrequited love for Lily, but I also see it as a symbol of Lily’s love of Harry – a mother’s love and protection. As a woman who grew up in the northern woods of Michigan, there are few things more beautiful than deer. There are few fictional scenes that leave me with goosebumps; this was one of them.

Undoubtedly I will read the entire Harry Potter series again, even if it isn’t until I have a child of my own. I am so glad that I read the entire series, even if I am not exactly a reader of fantasy. I can now fully understand why those novels will stand the test of time and inspire such a loyal following. I will always have a soft spot in my heart for Professor Snape. Always.

Know It All

Is it just me, or did Hermione Granger seem to have a bit of a crush on Professor Snape?

Gypsies – Part 2

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Read gypsies part 1 here.

What can I say about these passport photos? They hold so many memories. Yes, even Grandma’s. I never did travel internationally with Grandma, with the exceptions of a trip to Aruba in the early 1990s and a trip to Ontario during my high school years, but she always supported my endeavors. I still have letters that she and Grandpa wrote to me during my first years at Michigan State. When I spent a semester in Quito, Ecuador, I came home one day to my host mother speaking on the phone in English with Grandma. At the time, I didn’t even know that my host mother spoke English that well! It turned out that she had studied abroad in Wisconsin.

One of my favorite stories took place in 2002 just before I was to leave for Austin, Texas to complete a six month co-op with Applied Materials. First, one has to understand that Texas has always loomed large in my imagination. My grandparents lived in Fort Worth during World War II. On Mom’s side, my great-grandfather spent the last years of his life outside of Houston ranching. Well, I think Grandma could tell I was a bit nervous as I said goodbye for several months. She told me, “You know, they are going to call you a damn Yankee!” Of course, I thought that she was joking. She always joked around. That may have been true in the ‘40s, but the early 21st century? Nah. It turns out the joke was on me.

In the days before GPS everywhere, I stopped at a grocery store to ask for directions to my new apartment complex. Unfortunately, I was lost. As soon as I opened my mouth, the man I had approached joked “Damn Yankee, huh?” and proceeded to laugh at my very Michigan accent. Then, he gave me the correct directions, and I was on my way. Literally the first words I heard in Texas were “damn Yankee.” All in good fun, of course. I ended up falling in love with Texas – Austin in particular – and planned to move there after my graduation from Michigan State. Well, I did move to Houston upon graduation, but frankly, I loathed Houston. It just wasn’t the same without my friends from Austin.

Today I am grateful that I moved back to Michigan. I would have never had those last years with my grandparents. As much as I love to travel, family means too much to me. As I am now a vital part of the future of the canoe livery, there are other considerations as well. Deep down, I always planned to come home, even if I didn’t want to admit it in my 20s.

As for those passport pictures, Grandma’s is one of my favorite pictures of her. During my later high school years, she traveled to Poland with family in order to see where her parents were born. She wanted to see where her parents’ grew up. That is why she ended up getting this passport in the first place. Over the years, she traveled extensively in the Caribbean and the United States. She hadn’t needed a passport since a trip to Brazil in the 1970s. As I waited for her in her car one day outside the canoe livery (we were headed somewhere, of course), I noticed her application for a passport. What struck me then was the names of her parents’ birthplaces. She had had to list the various countries those towns became a part of after World Wars I and II – a miniature lesson in the history of Eastern Europe during almost the entire 20th century – or so it seemed to me at the time. Even though I didn’t fully appreciate it until many years later, I think of the sacrifices my great-grandparents made to come to the United States legally. My great-grandmother was only in her teens at the time. I know what it is like to live in another country for a short period of time, but to never see your home country or parents again? I can’t begin to imagine.

My passport picture in another story entirely. When I see that picture, I think of how naive I was at the time. I can’t help but want to warn my 19 year-old self of the worst she’ll experience abroad – as well as tell her how worth it it all was, how much she will experience, most of it wonderful. I would tell her to not worry about all of the guys she’ll meet – none of them are “the one.” None of them are worth the heartache they will cause. Above all, have fun. Oh, and I would tell her that one day, she will want to teach Spanish. Take the necessary tests! It isn’t that easy to get fluency back once it is lost.

A Guarded Heart

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I came across this passage not too long ago, and I keep coming back to the message. My personal experiences aside, I do believe that this is what most women – heck, what most people – are feeling after the break up of a long term relationship or even marriage. No one wants to think that they have loved in vain.

My bigger question here is this: When does guarding your heart against another broken heart cross into just shutting everyone out, period? There has to be a line, doesn’t there? I would love to know precisely where it is. I’m sure that it would be different from person to person, but how does one know where his or her personal line is? It is an intriguing question. Is it possible to get so caught up in oneself – dreams, ambitions, and so much more – that the idea of having a significant other just doesn’t matter anymore? I truly hope that I never arrive at that point. Yet, what if it doesn’t happen? That fact can’t be dwelt upon either, otherwise you end up miserable.

The Enemy Within

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Enough. I have had enough. This past week, I received some test results that made me question why I ever listened to anyone who could not see my worth as a business woman. It is pathetic because I have struggled most of my life to be taken seriously as a business woman for a variety of reasons, and there it was, in black and white, that I had slowly over the years begun to believe all the garbage thrown my way. My ex used to get in my face about it and accused me of giving up on my business career all too soon. I absolutely hate to admit it, but he was right, in a sense. I had all but given up at that point. He may have had ulterior motives and never understood my need to become a teacher, but he was right. In spite of everything I’d been taught over the years by my parents, my dad in particular, I’d let others’ opinions of me matter when they should not. I just needed to get on with it and do what I need to do.

I feel as though I’ve been fighting an uphill battle since kindergarten. Until then, I didn’t realize that my body was that different from other girls my age – or that my self-worth in school (at least when it came to peers) as a female depended upon society’s arbitrary perception of physical beauty, athletic ability, and precious little else. I eventually made peace with the situation and focused on my education. I foolishly thought that things would change once I entered the workforce after college. The focus may not have been entirely on outward appearances, but it was still there. When combined with perceived notions of power and society at large, I really didn’t have much of a chance. Their loss, not mine.

Fortunately, I am meant to be a teacher. I hope I do have the opportunity to teach business classes. I also hope to teach my students, no matter what subject, that character counts. Practical and theoretical knowledge matters. It isn’t all about outward appearances. I will also teach them to have faith in themselves and not to let others damage their self-worth. It is too important. Everyone struggles with insecurities. Don’t let them define you or stop you from doing anything. Life is simply too short.

The thing is that I knew all of this back in high school, and yet, I allowed myself to be worn down by an awful economy and a lack of professional guidance, among other things. I began to doubt myself when I needed the self-confidence the most. Never again. I am done letting others define me, whether as a teacher, a business woman, a writer, and eventually, a mother. Only I know my whole story. Until you do, don’t judge. I firmly believe that everyone has a story. I just wish more people recognized this and were not so quick to judge.

Gypsies – Part 1

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Grandma and me – Michigan State University – 2001

I am not sure when I realized that I love to travel, but I am fairly certain that my love of travel is due, at least in part, to Grandma Reid’s influence.  We were always going somewhere, whether it was a shower, wedding, family reunion, or to call on one of her customers.  She used to pick me up from preschool from time to time, and I would go with her to visit her customers.  She sold women’s clothing for over 40 years.  In fact, Grandma’s career outlived several different women’s clothing companies.  She had a loyal customer base mainly consisting of farm wives and housewives who liked having her come to their homes to show samples and catalogs.  On one such trip, one of her customers gave me a kitten.  I couldn’t keep it at home due to the fact that Mom is allergic.  Instead, the kitten became an outdoor cat at Grandma and Grandpa’s house.  It was during these early childhood years that I became one of her favorite travel companions.


As I became a teenager, I spent my summers working directly with Grandma on a near daily basis at my parents’ canoe livery and campground. Even though Grandma sold the canoe livery to my parents back in 1977, she and Grandpa spent their summers at the canoe livery with us. She is the one who taught me customer service and what it means to run a business. We also had fun. After she passed away, Dad stated in his tribute to her that she was a “big kid at heart.” This could not be more true. I think of all the times we would go for ice cream (she adored ice cream), all the trips to Lutz’s Funland (a local small amusement park long since closed), the putt-putt golfing adventures, the latest movies, and more. She was a big influence in our lives because she wanted to be – and my parents allowed her to be.

After I could drive, and Grandma is the one who taught me how to drive, I would spend long evenings working with Grandma at the canoe livery.  Occasionally, I would spend the night at her home, especially if we had something planned the next day.  In earlier years, I loved spending the night at Grandma and Grandpa’s house due to the fact that Grandma always liked to stay up late.  I have fond childhood memories of watching Johnny Carson with her.  That would never fly at home for several reasons, but I cherish those memories.  Grandpa, like my parents, would go to bed much earlier.  In fact, when I was older and we wouldn’t come home until later in the evening, Grandpa would leave notes for us – his gypsies.  He always addressed us as his gypsies.  I have never forgotten that.  Grandpa Reid, Dad’s step-dad, did not like to travel.  In fact, he was content to stay home and cut wood during the winter or maintain his garden during the summer.  I think that he got a kick out of Grandma and I always being on the go.  I miss them both and think about them daily.

The Things We Love

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Before there was Harry, Ron, and Hermione, there was Kevin, Paul, and Winnie. For whatever reason, and I have my theories, I adored The Wonder Years as a kid. Let’s face it: I wanted to be Winnie Cooper. I wanted to look exactly like her; however, I hoped that I would not be quite so critical and whiny (cue any time she said Kevin’s name). There is just something about the entire series that always stuck with me. Maybe it had something to do with this: Quotes from The Wonder Years. If nothing else, the writing is fantastic. Not that long ago, someone brought up how artificial and inauthentic the late 1960s and 1970s could be. That statement did not sit well with me, and I finally figured out why. One of what I consider to be the most authentic TV shows happened to be set in that exact time period. I understood where he was going with that statement, but it didn’t tell the whole story. Did the late 1960s and 1970s have kitschy moments? Of course it did, loads of them (the clothes alone …), but that wasn’t the everyday experience of most people who lived during that time period. I refuse to believe people are that shallow.

The irony is that if a “modern” version of The Wonder Years was made today, it would be set in the 1990s. From what I remember, most of the story lines wouldn’t have to change much. It would still be possible to deal with middle school/high school crushes, friendship, politics, learning how to drive, and first jobs. Only the historical backdrop, clothes, and music would have to change. As much as I would love to see that happen, it would not be the same. Such a series could only be viewed in the shadow of The Wonder Years.

All of this left me wondering why we love what we love. Why do we love the people we love? Do we really have a choice? I’m not sure. I’m even less certain as to why we fall in love with certain things. Why do we connect with certain music, books, TV shows, and movies, while not caring for others? I have no idea. I do know that I love the movie Casablanca and the ending scene of Bridget Jones’ Diary. I love the characters of Mr. Darcy: Both Fitzwilliam Darcy of Pride and Prejudice and Mark Darcy of Bridget Jones’ Diary. The ending of Six Feet Under is one of the best endings of a TV series I’ve ever come across. Francine Prose’s Reading Like A Writer continues to influence me as a writer and inspired me to read her other works. It completely changed how I read. I refuse to watch anything after the last episode of the third season of Call the Midwife because of how nicely it summed up the series to that point. The adoption scene with Dr. Turner and Shelagh gets to me every time. I could go on. All of these things influence what I read, what I watch, and eventually, what I write. Maybe we don’t find the right material, maybe the right material finds us. As for people, well … one can hope.