...Let me count the ways. I love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach. I memorized that poem when I first fell in love in March of 1972. Looking back on almost 37 years of being together, I realize I only touched the surface back then. I thought I could feel love to the depth and breath and height--but I had only scratched the surface.
The beginning was lingering phone calls, flowers, heartbeats pounding, and sighs when he walked into the room.
After 36 years of holding hands, paying bills, sometimes being selfish and sometimes giving, 5 nauseating pregnancies, 5 labors, dirty diapers (yes--I sewed and cleaned cloth diapers--gag), 12 different houses and moves--with another one coming up in a couple of years, lots of dinners and movies, saved and wasted money, scrimping with one income, admiration, embarrassment, laughter, and disappointment, hospital visits, laughs and tears, relatives, raising kids who sometimes listened...and sometimes didn't, Friday night date nights, dejunking then seeing it build up again, finishing school, getting a teaching job, then back to the books with a Masters'--and all of the support through all of that, not getting home until 6:00 at night, all of the callings we both have had, appreciating the Gospel in our lives to know divine help is just a prayer or blessing away, knowing I'm far far from the person I want to be. I will never be organized enough, witty enough, thin enough, smart enough, rich enough, or pretty enough, but I'm loved because--and in spite of it all...thank you Larry.
I really do love thee to the depth and breadth and height my soul can reach...and my soul will keep reaching as our lives continue and I learn more about what this life is really about. No easy answers...but I gave up on the 'perfect' life, and settled for the life I was meant to live.
Autism in Woodworking
When the new semester started, I gained 4 new classes of beginning classes. In the first new class, the twin of a previous student sat in the second row. He was outspoken, kept getting up and walking around, and read a book when he should have been working. He brought a tracker to me so I signed it, mentioning his actions of the day. He said "You can't say that! My Mom will kill me", but I left it as I wrote it.
Two days later in class again, he was reading a book while students wrote from the board. I gently touched his book, and said, "Please put it away and write the question". He angrily looked up and loudly said, "You could have at least said my name!" In his tracker, I later wrote that he was rude, and he said, "What does that say? What do you mean?" (This is in front of the whole class, who were all eagerly listening). I motioned for him to come into my office and explained I didn't want to embarrass him. He calmed down and left for his next class.
Later, his Mom called my office and left a message for me to call her to talk about him, mentioning he is autistic. Knowing nothing, really, about autism and wondering if he really should be in Woods, I was afraid to call, even though I know her and have enjoyed her other children in class. I did try unsuccessfully, but the next day, he was super in class.
I finally got in touch with his Mom and she explained why he behaved so well that third day. She told him; "You should be respectful to all of your teachers, but especially this one, because she was a friend of your mother." His eyes opened wide as she explained how. I knew his real Mom, Annette, about 15 years ago. She did my hair and I helped her as she desperately put together scrapbooks before she passed away from cancer. She wanted so badly to leave a legacy for her family. The twins are especially sensitive to anything having to do with their real mother, since they were so young when she died.
Sheri married into the family and is now doing a great job raising Annette's children, along with her own.
I feel his angel Mom is near him and wants me to help him, but I worry about him in a class of 34 other kids who also need help. I can tell he is a smart kid, I just feel the pressure. I know so little about autism, but I pray the Lord will help me, in spite of my own weakness.
Two days later in class again, he was reading a book while students wrote from the board. I gently touched his book, and said, "Please put it away and write the question". He angrily looked up and loudly said, "You could have at least said my name!" In his tracker, I later wrote that he was rude, and he said, "What does that say? What do you mean?" (This is in front of the whole class, who were all eagerly listening). I motioned for him to come into my office and explained I didn't want to embarrass him. He calmed down and left for his next class.
Later, his Mom called my office and left a message for me to call her to talk about him, mentioning he is autistic. Knowing nothing, really, about autism and wondering if he really should be in Woods, I was afraid to call, even though I know her and have enjoyed her other children in class. I did try unsuccessfully, but the next day, he was super in class.
I finally got in touch with his Mom and she explained why he behaved so well that third day. She told him; "You should be respectful to all of your teachers, but especially this one, because she was a friend of your mother." His eyes opened wide as she explained how. I knew his real Mom, Annette, about 15 years ago. She did my hair and I helped her as she desperately put together scrapbooks before she passed away from cancer. She wanted so badly to leave a legacy for her family. The twins are especially sensitive to anything having to do with their real mother, since they were so young when she died.
Sheri married into the family and is now doing a great job raising Annette's children, along with her own.
I feel his angel Mom is near him and wants me to help him, but I worry about him in a class of 34 other kids who also need help. I can tell he is a smart kid, I just feel the pressure. I know so little about autism, but I pray the Lord will help me, in spite of my own weakness.
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