"Love Leaves a Memory No One Can Steal"
10 months ago
July 31, 2009, the last day I saw Zach alive. If it was inevitable that he had to go, I would hug him tightly and tell him how much I loved him. I would have stayed home that day and spent every moment that he would allow with him. Regrets are hard to live with.
10 months ago
I still have a plaster cast of my hand when I was about 5. As I was cleaning drawers the other day, I rediscovered it. In our pole building, I also have an aluminum casting of 1979, my graduation year from high school. It was an art project in 7 or 8 grade. I cut and glued foam pieces, And then the Foundry paired an aluminum cast of it. We then spray painted the whole thing navy blue and had a guy atHomestead mill off the top, leaving a shiny aluminum finish. The most shocking thing for me was how heavy it was. I had no concept of the bigger the piece, the heavier it was. I had a hard time carrying it in school.
14 months ago
I would like to say I do NOT define myself by my career, but how can I explain how many hours I work then? As I write this, it is 9:55 p.m. I've been up since 5:45 a.m. and I have only taken about 1.5 hours off today for lunch and dinner. Am I being forced to work this many hours? No. I can't relax, however, until I have my work done for the next day. What is it then? The perfectionist in me? The need for order in my life? Do I feel better about myself when I work this hard?
Although I want to be good at my job and have an impact on the lives of students, it is more important for me to be a good wife, a good mother, a good daughter, a good sister, and a good friend. Don't ask the people I care about most in life the question, "Is Jennie defined by her career?" The truth may hurt.
One of my biggest regrets with Zach was how much time I spent at work. Was I more concerned about being a good teacher than being a good mom? The last week of Zach's life on one of his most depressed days, he asked Tim and I to take the day off and just do something together. I didn't do it. I had just gotten to work at Homestead when he asked. I always thought I would have tomorrow. What I wouldn't give for a do-over.
15 months ago
The most vivid memories I have of food growing up are the foods I was forced to eat like oysters, brussel sprouts, and fruit cocktail on ham. To this day, I still hate those foods.
I remember pretending to eat oysters in stew at Granny's, then acting like I wanted more, then dumping the oysters I didn't eat back in the pot.
It was going to be a looong night at the table with brussel sprouts. I wouldn't eat them and was not allowed to get up from the table until I did. Thankfully my sister Ardis had pity on me and would stab one and eat one every time she walked by the table.
Heated fruit cocktail gravy on top of ham? Yuck! I thought I had figured away around that one. Eat my baked potatoe first, then scoop the fruit cocktail inside the potato skin and close it. No one would ever know. Or so I thought. At the end of dinner, Dad asked me to open my potato skin. I reluctantly did. Thankfully he laughed instead of forcing me to eat it.
I have good memories of food too: Delphine's homemade bread and molasses cookies on Mondays, homemade toast and orange juice at Granny's, hard frosting roses at Grandma Kaleto's, Mom's Cheez Whiz macaroni and cheese, sheath cake from the Mennonite cookbook, rice pudding, peanut butter braid coffee cake, homemade hot fudge ice cream topping by the spoonful right out of the pan, and microwaved marshmallows.