Miss Ryan

Happy Saint Patricks Day!

I committed yesterday to share my very first journal entries from little, eleven-year old Blue. So here you go, exactly as written 31 years ago today (Gives me great hope for Gator, frankly!):

March 17, 1980 - Saint Pactricks Day Monday

Thay anounced the winners of the play and I was suposed to be Miss Hanigan

I hate Miss Hanigan and Miss Ryan my Mean fith grade teacher kicked me out

Kim Pricherd got the part I wanted, Annie

Boy I hate Miss Ryan

Miss Ryan Hates Me so Much

she wouldnt even tell me who grace was

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

March 19, 1980

Mrs. Ryan Likes me now and

Im in the play as Miss Hanigan

But I dont care that much

Im in math right now But i'm done.

(Sadly, the next entry was seven months later so we will ever be deprived of further detail about the glories of playing Miss Hanagan which were increased by the casting of my younger sister as one of the orphans I got to pick on.)

I've written before about Miss Ryan (no, she didn't get married between entries). She was my all-time favorite teacher and had an invaluable impact on me at a critical time in my life. So I was surprised when I read that first entry to Gator. My childhood was a field of extremes...love, hate, good, bad, ugly, pretty, all, nothing. It's taken a lot of work to embrace the middle, the myriad shades of gray.

Two months ago while on a layover in California I decided to track down my beloved teacher. She's been married for decades now, but she always will be Miss Ryan to me because I refuse to grow up.

I had so many questions for her. I wanted to know if she knew, or even suspected, anything about my home life and how things were going for me. I mean, it was 1980...a different era in terms of awareness of neglect and abuse. But still, was that why she took an interest in me? Did she know what a huge impact she had on me?

It was a Sunday evening when I finally met up with her. Ever the superhero teacher, she was in her classroom at the school where she now teaches, preparing for her week.

I only had an hour before I had to head back to the airport, but it was such a sweet visit for me. Miss Ryan's had thousands of students in the course of her career, yet she absolutely remembered me (I must have a way about me).

Miss Ryan and me...31 years later

We had a nice visit, filling in the gaps in our lives. I was able to thank her for what she did for me...after telling her how important she was in my life. Despite what I wrote on March 17, 1980, she really has always been one of my heroes...one of my life's angels. And being in that play was the start of some fun experiences for me...despite not getting to wear the red afro wig!

So the moral of these stories is (this really should have been part of yesterday's post), keep a journal, kids! You never know but what it might come in handy in enchanting your beloved someday. And it's like free therapy when you're struggling...but be honest and thoughtful about what you write. Show the whole picture. We can't learn and grow from our mistakes and follies, or see how far we've come, if we don't acknowledge them. And your kids won't be able to laugh their heads off at how ridiculous you use to be if you don't put in all the good stuff! Put the date on each page. Don't bother with stuff that really doesn't matter, but do include feelings and thoughts that are significant. Remember, venting on paper is better than being mean to others. You can always tear a page out if you really don't want words you've written to be remembered...but you can't take actions or spoken words back.

Have you ever gotten in touch with someone you'd lost touch with from your past (not counting Facebook)? Did you have any heroes as a child? Were any of your teachers exceptionally important in your life?

Grateful for:

1) Education. Gracious, I had no idea how atrocious my grammar and spelling use to be!

2) Perspective that comes through the passage of time.

3) Chances to thank those who have blessed my life.

The Usefulness of Journals

Recently, the value of keeping a journal has been on my mind, and Gator, my eleven year old, pointed out to me that he didn't have one. 

I know...Major Momma Slackitude!  (If that were only the worst of it...)

Bunch has a robust collection of pretty blank notebooks and journals, and loves writing in them.  It's kind of an odd thing to collect, but she loves them and has been journaling for years.  (She also collects pencils. They pair nicely with the journals.)

While I began keeping a journal as a 5th grader, the ever-overachieving Doc started keeping a journal when he was in 3rd grade.  He was a special child.  In fact, it was this very journal that made me fall in love with him.  I am absolutely serious about this, even though you might think it was his handsome looks, his winsome personality or keen intellect. Nope. It was his journal that hooked me.

Doc and I were already close friends.  He'd been knocked for a loop by my certain charms from the very start, but I had kindly told him "I just want to be friends." He surprised me by saying that was fine, and quickly proceeded to become my favorite person. But I hadn't yet been caught up by his tractor beam.  It's possible I might have had trust issues. 

So one night Doc announced that he wanted me to read his journal. The journal he'd vowed early on that no one would ever read so he could be completely honest in it.  About everything (including me. As it turned out).

It took some arm twisting, but I finally agreed to it.

By the time I turned the last page, I was done for.  My heart was captured and confirmed his.  In those pages it was as though I came to know the soul of this young man, and in knowing him I couldn't resist just loving him.  (I believe that's where that expression actually originated.)

He was just eighteen years old, and that journal had started when he was nine.  Half his life was represented.  And unlike my journal, which I was suddenly very self-conscious of, his was focused on things actually worth remembering. 

To clarify: I'd spent years faithfully writing about my days...what I ate (fascinating!), what time it was when I went to bed, how much sleep I got or didn't get, what I wore that day, who gave me rides to things, how much homework I had, and wondering why if I was defective.  Every now and then I tried to include something with the intent that if someone ever DID read select entries, you know, AFTER I WAS DEAD, they'd maybe think I was kind of awesome.  So there I was, writing to my invisible audience. 

It was painful to realize what a waste of time and what a missed opportunity my journal was.  Doc hadn't written as often as me, but when he did write, it was to record significant experiences, things he was thinking about as he grew from a boy into a man.  He wrote down spiritual experiences, answers to prayers, things that were important to him, his hopes, plans and dreams.  He didn't omit things that might show his frailties and shortcomings...it was the whole picture.  And I was dumbfounded by his honesty and trust (in letting me read it). 

I wished someone had taught me the why, what and how of keeping a journal. I had no idea how useful and worthwhile keeping one could be.  Mine is truly so awful that I've only glanced through it a couple times in the past 30 years. 

But this past weekend I finally bought Gator a journal, and in an overcompensating attempt, I even had his name inscribed on it. (I think Bunch was jealous.) 

After he'd written his first entry, he asked if he could read my journal from when I was a kid.  In case I needed to edit out any parts Because my penmanship was positively terrible, I decided I'd read it to him and use my fifth-grade self as a kind of what not to do when it comes to journaling. 

It was enlightening to say the least...especially reading it out loud to my kid. I really was completely all-or-nothing as a child.
 

Turns out that tomorrow, March 17th, is the 31st anniversary of my first journal entry...and since this post is already too long, I will continue this tale, INCLUDING SHARING the very first two journal entries OF MY LIFE, complete with errors.  Which faithful readers will note means blog posts for 3 days in a row.  It's like a party. Without food!

 

HELPFUL TIP FOR THE DAY:

Don't forget to wear green to bed tonight...kids these days start the pinching early!

 

 

Movies

As they mature, we're enjoying watching movies from the past 25 years or so with Bunch and Gator.  Shows that came out before they were born, or that they were too young to enjoy when we first saw them.  


I've been asked if I could share our list, so I decided to put it on here and solicit additions.  Are there any we've forgotten that you think we should consider? (Note: some shows might not be listed because they've seen them already, eg: Star Wars, Pirates OTC, Harry Potter, LOTR, etc, but feel free to suggest any favorites we might have overlooked.)  Our library has most movies in their system, and we have been taking advantage of their free week-long rentals.

Apollo 13
Forest Gump
What Dreams May Come
Sleepless in Seattle
While You Were Sleeping
Ferris Bueller's Day Off
The Truman Show
Edward Scissorhands
Princess Bride
Groundhog Day
What About Bob
Big
Ever After
Return To Me
Empire of the Sun
Man From Snowy River
Cast Away
The Karate Kid movies
Adventures in Babysitting
Back to the Future movies
Ghost Busters
Mrs. Doubtfire
The Scarlett Pimpernell


Some movies are still a bit mature or scary for our kids, but  we'll watch with them when they're a bit older:
~~~~~~~~~
City of Angels
The Mission
Pay It Forward
Sixth Sense

Grateful for:
1) Family time
2) Good entertainment
3) The big tv and comfy couch that make these times so much nicer!