A Mothers' Day Tribute to My Mom's Pumpkin Pie

If you've ever been a student in my class in the last few years, you may know a little about this story. 

Sometimes, when you are going through life, the little things are what catch your attention. I remember when my parents were packing up their Florida apartment, getting ready to move back to Pennsylvania due to my mom's declining health. My dad didn't seem to get it - that mom was sitting there watching us decide what to keep, what to give away, and so forth. He came across a small little fishing pole that she had always used when they went fishing, and said that it could be gotten rid of. 

In a small, quiet voice, I heard my mother say, "I guess I'll never get to go fishing again." It both broke my heart and made me irritated that my dad couldn't understand what was going through my mother's mind. She always pretended nothing was wrong, but this was probably her first verbal acknowledgement that something was indeed very wrong with her. At that moment, I told my dad, "Pack some suitcases and get ready to drive to Pennsylvania. I'll take care of finishing everything else and getting it up to you." 

It was the week of Thanksgiving break, and it took about two more days to finish up once the two of them had gone. I was finishing up late Wednesday evening and called my husband. As we were talking by phone, it dawned on me I hadn't even gotten a turkey for our Thanksgiving dinner. When I finally got home, we made a quick trip to the store to purchase what we needed. Stu had gone off to get something at the back of the store, and I was up at the front by the deli/bakery. 

All of a sudden, I saw the largest display of pumpkin pies and I just froze. I must have looked noticeably shaken because an elderly woman who happened to be beside me at the time turned to me and asked if I was okay. I started to sob uncontrollably, and said, "I just realized that I will never have my mother's pumpkin pie again." 

The reality of the entire situation had finally hit me. The last few months she was alive and living in Florida, I had made it a point to call her every evening to make sure she was okay. She had had a couple of falls, and because I lived an hour away, I couldn't rush down to help. This was my attempt to reassure myself that she was still there, still alive, and that everything was still okay. 

Now, when I teach students about exploding a moment, this is one I use as an example. I can never get through it without getting emotional, but it helps them see how one moment can last a lifetime. I know this one will always last for me. Love you, mom! Happy Mothers' Day.

After 19 Years, I finally had a resolution

Posted in Facebook on March 3, 2016

The very first year I taught in public school, I had a student who was an extremely troubled young person who would do anything she could to cause a disruption. I finally had to write a discipline referral for her because she just would not behave. She ended up getting an out-of-school suspension, and while they were escorting her to the bus at the end of the day, I can remember her passing my classroom door yelling, "I hate you Mrs. Gabbard!" I was extremely upset about the whole thing, and I had always dreaded the possibility of running into this student outside of class, not knowing what she might be capable of where there were no other authority figures to keep her in line. Well that was 19 years ago now. Tonight, I ended up going to my night class early. I don't know why, but I was about an hour earlier than normal. I had everything ready for class, and my students were going to be taking a test. Being bored, I decided to go to the student services building to get some coffee. I realized I only had a $20 bill that wouldn't work in the coffee machine, so I went into the bookstore and wandered around a little to try to kill some time. Up by the cashier was a young lady trying to rent the textbook for Comp I, and she was talking about whether she actually needed the class as she had passed the PERT with a really high score. Since I teach Comp I, I told her that she probably did need the class, but that her scores were very high and that she should do well. All of a sudden this young woman said to me, "Hello, Mrs. Gabbard!" I didn't recognize her, but she told me her name and that she had been in my class in middle school, and that she was very good in English because of having had me for a teacher. I was delighted that she remembered me, and that she felt this way, but I still didn't remember who she was. As I was walking towards the door to go on to my class, it finally dawned on me who she was. I whirled around and said, "Is your step-father a doctor?" She nodded, and then I said Oh, My God. I know who you are. I told her and the cashier how I had always dreaded the possibility of seeing her in public fearing that she would decide to scream at me or something. She apologized profusely for how she had behaved in my class, and said that growing up, she didn't have the best family situation, and that she was very confused as a teenager. She had finally left home at 17, getting her dad to sign papers for her so she could join the military. She had spent 4 years in the military, and now she is married and has children of her own. She works as a welder, of all things, and was going back to school to become a psychologist so she can help people who have the same kinds of issues she had as a teenager. She could tell how seeing her had affected me, and she gave me a huge hug, and she repeated how she was good in English from being in my class, and that she was sorry she had given me such a hard time. By the time we were finished talking, the cashier who had been listening to our conversation was practically in tears from our story. I have to say that it had always disheartened me that I seemingly couldn't reach this student, but now, more than 19 years later, I feel so blessed to have run into her. She is happy, healthy, and filled with hope for her future. It really felt great to know that, even though it took so long to see it, I really did make a difference for her.

How Can You Mend a Broken Heart?

I don't know whether I can actually write this blog today.  I think I need to, but as I begin, I can already feel my eyes swelling up, my stomach tying in knots, and I get the sickening the feeling that I have so many emotions ready to explode and gush out onto the page that my writing will suck and won't be anything more than just an opportunity to get it all out there.

I was always told that saying the most in the least amount of words is good writing, and that poetry is (what did Wordsworth say?) "the spontaneous overflow of powerful feelings: it takes its origin from emotion recollected in tranquility." So. I guess this won't be very good writing today, and it certainly won't be poetic.

I've lost my husband. My heart is breaking. I don't know who to talk to...who to confide in, and I feel so many different emotions that seem to go silent for a while and then hit me all of a sudden when I'm not really doing anything that feels like it would or could be a trigger. How do people go on through this and survive to the other side? Is there "another side" to this whole roller coaster of emotions?

Worst of all, it is summer time. Stuart used to say that I was at my worst during vacation times because it gave me too much time to sit around and think.  He was right, and summer is such a long vacation break.  I have lots to do, and lots of time to do it, but so much of it can be so painful that I am avoiding it all. I keep telling myself if I get one or two "things" accomplished in a day toward putting all this financial and paperwork nightmare behind me, the day was successful.

It's really hard, you know. Going places we used to go together, and there really aren't that many places we didn't go to together. I could go to some of those places, but I'll see people or things that I know will remind me. I can already feel how bad a day this is starting out to be, but I can't keep letting it spiral downward. I have to bounce back and think of things to do to keep me pushing on.

I know I am going to learn something from this.  Maybe just how fragile life is, and how losing someone is probably the worst feeling in the world.  I can understand, now, how people can become hoarders or depressed in these kinds of situations.  Losing someone you have loved so deeply leaves a huge hole in your heart and in your life. But there are still others around to whom I mean something, so there is that.

I'm not sure how to close this one out.  I don't really have the wisdom yet, but I'm going to come out on the other side.  It will just take time.  Just keep me in your thoughts and prayers.