My testimony

Here is the transcript of my portion of my testimony that I gave in church on Easter Sunday, April 16, 2017. My husband Eric and I were blessed to be able to share with our church family. Eric also shared at this time about the tremendous support that we received during my illness and recovery. I hope my testimony is a blessing to you!

My testimony

My name is Martha Groeber, and I’ve been through a lot in the past year. My journey started in July, when I developed some nasal congestion. I thought that I had developed an allergy and took some allergy medicine. When it didn’t improve in a couple of weeks, I went to see a doctor. He thought that I had an allergy and gave me more medicine. A couple of weeks later, it hadn’t improved and back I went to a doctor. This time a sinus infection was suspected, and I was given more medicine. I soon developed a hacking cough and congestion so bad that I couldn’t sleep at night. I also completely lost my appetite. I returned to my doctor, who took an x-ray and told me that I had pneumonia. On the morning of August 19, I woke with one thought - “Something is not right.” Eric drove me to Kaiser Emergency at once that morning. Upon admission, a CT scan revealed that I had blood clots throughout my torso - on my liver, kidneys, spleen, in my lungs, and, most ominously, in my heart. I was immediately put on blood thinners and admitted to the hospital. Over the course of a week, many tests were run on me to determine what was going on. In a few days, my rheumatologist found a blood marker that pointed to a very rare disease called Wegener’s vasculitis, an auto-immune condition in which the body begins to attack the blood vessels. As the various tests began ruling out other conditions, including lung cancer, the Wegener’s blood marker remained. 

Unfortunately, I developed another rare complication that delayed my treatment for Wegener’s. On August 22, after another CT scan, I returned to my hospital room and noticed that my left foot felt like it was asleep. I figured that maybe a nerve had gotten pinched during the procedure. However, the tingling feeling didn’t go away. Very shortly, I couldn’t stand on my foot and my foot started turning purple. The doctors decided that I must have developed a blood clot in my foot. On August 27, I had a three-hour surgery to remove the blood clot. After the surgery, my doctor came into post-op and told me that the surgery had been unsuccessful. My only option was to remove part of my leg.

I was so fortunate to have my family near me during this time. My husband, despite having a new job, spent as much time with me as he could. My parents flew in from Pennsylvania for what was supposed to be a long weekend and turned into over a week. My youngest son came several times a week as well. My oldest son is in college in Arizona and was told to please stay there and finish his degree! When I received the news about my leg, Eric and my parents were right there with me.

My decision was whether the surgery would be above or below the knee. My vascular surgeon was very concerned that with the level of infection and my weakened condition due to the Wegener’s, a below-knee amputation would not be successful. After much prayer and discussion with my family, I decided to take my best chance and have my leg amputated above the knee. On August 31, I went in for surgery. Eric, my parents, and Pastor Bob were all there for me that time. The surgery was very successful; my vascular surgeon was very happy with the result.

However, I still had to deal with the Wegener’s. The treatment for this disease includes chemo, steroids, and blood thinners. The day after my surgery, I had my first round of chemo. Due to my  weakened condition, I did not tolerate the chemo well and was extremely sick for two days. By the third day, I was feeling better.

Then we began the task of informing our friends and family about my condition. People knew I was in the hospital, but during the week before surgery, we kept details quiet. I needed to mentally deal with the situation first. After we informed people, the outpouring of love and support was amazing. I received so many cards and letters, and I had so many visitors that I actually had to keep a schedule! I was humbled by the love given to me by so many.

I was finally released from the hospital after 26 days. I was fortunate that my sister and niece were there that day as they took me to Brookside in Redlands, where I would stay for rehab. I was blessed while I was there, as I had a God-picked roommate, a wonderful Christian lady who became a dear friend of mine. I also had Christian therapists as well. I stayed in rehab for 18 days, until I could hop along with the walker for a sufficient distance.

I returned home on October 1. I had been away from home for 42 days. I was basically house-bound for four months as I was confined to a walker or wheelchair and could only leave when someone could drive me. During this time, I had four more rounds of chemo, all of which I tolerated well with adjustments to the medicines. I was fitted for a prosthetic leg as well. Being at home was an adjustment. At first I could do very little, but over the months I was able to pick up more of the household chores as I gained strength. Further CT scans also showed the inflammation on my organs had receded.

I received my prosthetic leg at the end of January. I resumed driving and took care of a lot of appointments that I hadn’t been able to do previously. I was so happy to be able to return to my job as an instructional aide at the beginning of March. I feel like I was able to get most of my life back at that point.

Throughout this whole process, I have had to rely on God. None of this makes any sense if you don’t have God in your life. With God, we know that everything has a purpose and a reason. At 50 years old, I’ve been through difficult things in my life that God has used for good at a later time, often to help people going through a similar situation. I’ve tried to stay positive. I have my ups and downs. I’ve tried to feel sorry for myself, but somehow I just can’t work that up very well. I have so much to be grateful for - life itself, my family and friends, a job that let me take 6 1/2 months off. I try to be grateful for the little things - eating a meal with loved ones, being able to drive myself and go where I need to go, taking care of myself. These were all things I couldn’t do at one point and have been given back. I’m even grateful that I have my right driving leg. There are very few things that I love to do that I can’t do anymore.

The number one thing I’ve heard through this is “Your faith is such an inspiration. I’m not sure if I could do the same.” Well, my answer is a qualified yes. Yes, I absolutely believe that you can do the same as I can. But your faith has to be in place before the time of trial.  Soldiers and athletes spend months and years practicing, long before the battle or the big game. It is the same for spiritual trials. 

Like many of you, I’ve struggled with developing my relationship with Christ. Life gets busy, and it’s hard to set aside time for daily devotions. Fortunately, I love to read, so spending time in the Bible, devotionals, and Christian books is easy and enjoyable for me. It’s the applying all the principles to my life that gets difficult. For many years, I had the habit of my quiet time but still struggled to feel close to God. It wasn’t until I finally understood and accepted by faith who God is that I was able to make sense of things. I had to accept that what the Bible says about God is true - that He is good, kind, and loving. I had to take these by faith, because often things that happen in our lives don’t seem to follow this. Once I accepted that God is who He says He is, then I could rest. So when something happens like my disease, I know that God loves me and will absolutely use it for good.

The Bible tells us that when the Israelites were ready to cross the Jordan River, the river was still flowing. The Levites, carrying the Ark of the Covenant, had to wade into the river first. I’m sure they were scared out of their minds. But only after they waded in did God stop the river upstream. If He had stopped it before they went in, it wouldn’t have been faith. Once the river was stopped, the Israelites were able to cross into the Promised Land. Their faith was in place before the trial, and then the blessing followed.

Like the Israelites, we, too, must have our faith in place. It’s important to have our quiet time, be in church, fellowship with believers, and participate in ministry. There’s no magic formula. Your journey is different from mine, and your devotion will look different than mine. That’s okay. God wants you to develop your relationship with Him in your unique way. We don’t know what the future holds for us, but I certainly don’t want to go through it without God. I hope if I’m any inspiration to you, it will be to have that relationship with God set in place. If a difficult time comes for you, your faith in God will be there. God will give you what you need when you need it. It’s that simple.

A New Title, A New Chance

I've had quite the summer. My life has changed dramatically in the last two months, in a way never foreseen by me. I was reading Psalm 139:16, where it says, "You saw me before I was born. Every day of my life was recorded in your book. Every moment was laid out before a single day had passed."(NLT) God knew the direction my life was to take, and has been with me every step.

At the beginning of July, I became congested and thought I had developed an allergy. After two visits to the doctor and allergy medicine tried, I still wasn't feeling better. I developed a cough that became more extreme. On my third visit to the doctor, he took an x-ray and determined that I had pneumonia. I got more medicine for pneumonia, but still felt worse and worse. I completely lost my appetite, eating virtually nothing for over two weeks.

Finally, on August 19, I woke up with one thought in my mind - "Something is not right." Fortunately, Eric was home due to the Blue Cut fire shutting down his school district. He took me to the emergency room. After blood tests and a CT scan, the doctors told me that I had blood clots everywhere - in my heart, lungs, liver, spleen, and other organs. I was immediately put on blood thinners and admitted to the hospital.

Over the next several days, I had 5 CT scans, a lung biopsy, and a bronchoscopy as my team of doctors tried to determine what was going on with me. My rheumatologist, Dr. Kiran, discovered a marker in my blood called ANCA, which led her to suspect that I had developed a rare auto-immune disease called Wegener's disease, a form of vasculitis. (It's now called Granulomatosis with polyangiitis - GPA). As each test came back negative, Dr. Kiran became more convinced that this was what I had developed.

Forty years ago, GPA was non-curable and non-treatable. Most people who developed it died within  five months due to multiple organ failure. Developments in medicine now make GPA treatable, while not curable. Treatment with steroids, blood thinners, and chemotherapy can send the disease into remission. Dr. Kiran explained the treatments to me and determined to start treatment immediately.

However, I developed a complication. After my lung biopsy on August 22, my left foot felt like it had fallen asleep. Over the next week, I lost all feeling in my foot and could not stand on it. The doctors determined that I had developed a blood clot in my foot. On August 27, the doctors performed a three-hour surgery to attempt to remove the blood clot. When I went to the recovery room, the doctors told me, Eric, and my parents that the surgery had not been successful. The only option was to remove my left leg.

After doing some research, the doctors informed me that my situation was so rare that I am about the seventh person in the world to have GPA with associated limb loss. Hence the new title for my blog.

My vascular surgeon, Dr. Aka, gave me the options. I could remove the leg below my knee, but he was extremely concerned about this option. The risk of infection was higher, and could lead to a second surgery to remove my leg above the knee. In my weakened condition with GPA, he did not feel like this was the best option. He felt that removing my leg above the knee was better overall for me. After much prayer, I felt like I had to take my best chance, which was to do what Dr. Aka recommended.

On August 31, I had the surgery to remove my left leg. Afterwards, my parents said that Dr. Aka came out of surgery extremely pleased with the success of the operation. He did a wonderful job. There was no infection, and the wound has healed perfectly with no complications.

The following day, I started my first round of chemotherapy for the GPA. I was extremely sick from everything that I had been through - surgery, chemo, and not eating for several days. I started to feel better on September 4 and began the long process of recovery.

I began physical therapy in the hospital that week. At first, I could barely move my body. It felt like a chunk of concrete. Slowly the therapists got me to standing on my right leg - with the aid of a walker -  for a short period of time and then transitioning to sitting in a chair.

On September 11, I was finally moved from the Kaiser Step Down Unit to the regular patient rooms. My care in Kaiser's Step Down Unit was phenomenal. The nurses were first-rate - caring, competent, discreet, and encouraging. Every member of the Kaiser staff was amazing, from the mobility techs, housekeeping personnel, to the food service workers. I couldn't have asked for a better experience while in the hospital.

Two days later, I  was moved to Brookside Healthcare Center for rehabilitation. God was before me in this also - I was put into a room with a wonderful roommate, Eileen Lesher, who is an educated Christian lady. We were a perfect fit and got along so well.

In Brookside, I had daily therapy with wonderful therapists who pushed and encouraged me. Within two weeks, I went from barely being able to stand to hopping down the hallway with the walker. My right leg and both arms grew in strength rapidly.

On September 29, I had my second round of chemotherapy. This time, Dr. Kiran adjusted the anti-nausea medication and gave me a little less of the chemo medicine. I recovered quickly with no nausea at all, although I was extremely tired afterwards.

The big day came on October 1 - I got to go home! I had a great experience at Brookside, with a caring staff that was encouraging. I had spent 26 days in the hospital and 18 days at Brookside. I was gone from home for over six weeks.

You may be wondering what was going on at home while I was in the hospital. I left home on August 19, virtually dropping all of my responsibilities on Eric and Josh. Suddenly they were left to deal with laundry, shopping, dishes, and cooking. Eric had started a new job in July and had to juggle that new responsibility with picking up lots of extra chores. Fortunately, my friend Carol McKenzie set up weeks of people willing to bring meals for my guys. The response of people who brought meals has been amazing - they were able to lighten the load a little for us. What a blessing.

Since coming home, I have been able to get my life a little back. I've been able to get a hold on our finances (what a mess after doing the minimum for weeks!). I've continued to get stronger and am able to be on my own for the majority of the day. I have Home Health coming to continue my therapy.

Through this whole experience, I have been blessed by so many people. The cards, visits, gifts, and prayers have been amazing. I don't know how many people told me that they were having their church pray for me. The prayers of so many have buoyed me through this difficult time, even when I couldn't pray for myself. I know that this has made a difference for me.

I know that God has a purpose in this. My life is completely different than it was three months ago. I'm living one day at a time now. I have no idea how long my total recovery will take, how long it will be before I can get a prosthesis and regain my mobility, or when I will be able to manage going back to work. (Fortunately, I had lots of sick time accrued and my school district will be doing a leave bank to extend my sick leave). All I can do is trust in God each day for strength.

Through this all, I have had a sense of peace which could only come from God. I've tried to keep a positive attitude, although I've had my moments of frustration. Looking back at where I was a month ago, I've seen the progress I've made and it's encouraging. I've seen how I've taken things for granted, like getting up and expecting your day to unfold a certain way. I hope to take out of this a new sense of gratefulness, of being given a second chance at life. God preserved my life for a reason, and I know that He'll show it to me in His time.

Barriers to Education in America

I am currently reading I Am Malala, by Malala Yousafzai. I'm sure you have heard about this brave teenager who stood up for the right of girls to an education and was shot by the Taliban. She miraculously survived and is continuing to campaign for the right of all children to have a quality education.

Malala's love for learning is evident throughout this book. At the age of 11, she was reading Dickens, Shakespeare and Coelho; studying biology, chemistry and physics; and speaking three languages (Pashto, Urdu and English). When I think about what I was reading and learning at her age, it puts me to shame. At 11, I was still reading upper-level children's books; it would be another year before I considered reading adult-level material.

The Malala Fund Facebook page gave a link today: 10 Barriers to Education Around the World (www.globalcitizen.org). It is amazing that today these barriers still exist.

They are:
1. A lack of funding for education.
2. Having no teacher, or having an untrained teacher.
3. No classroom.
4. A lack of learning materials.
5. The exclusion of children with disabilities.
6. Being the "wrong" gender.
7. Living in a country in conflict or at risk of conflict.
8. Distance from home to school.
9. Hunger and poor nutrition.
10. The expense of education (formal or informal fees).

In America, we have very few of these barriers, as I address below:
1. While we don't have the funding for education that we would like to see, we do have plenty of money for education.
2. Every classroom has a college-educated teacher. Many teachers today have master's or doctorate degrees, as teachers get paid at a higher rate for obtaining a postgraduate degree.
3. Students have clean, well-stocked classrooms. Students have their own desks and supplies and don't have to share textbooks. Schools have multipurpose rooms, libraries, computer labs, lunch programs. playground equipment, restroom facilities, office staff and paraprofessional staff. Many schools provide art, sports and music (choral and instrumental) programs.
4. Students have textbooks that are current, usually no older than 10 years. Before state budget cuts, textbooks were replaced about every 5-7 years; some are older than that now. Schools supply pencils, crayons, scissors, paper, glue, and facial tissue.
5. Schools today are working to include children with disabilities. Programs like Resource and Special Day Class help children with special needs. Children have access to Individualized Education Programs (IEP's), which outline their individual needs and their targeted interventions. Many disabled children can be "mainstreamed" into regular classrooms as well. All schools have handicapped access to classrooms and restrooms.
6. Girls and boys have equal access. In fact, statistically, more women today are in college than men.
7. Other than in inner-city or gang-infested areas, children live in safety. Even in more dangerous areas, the crime problems usually do not prohibit children from attending school.
8. School districts usually provide busing for students who live a certain distance from school. Almost every family has a car and can provide transportation for their children if needed. Other than in extremely rural areas, most children live within five miles of their school.
9. Hunger is still an issue that we have in schools today. Many children tell me in the morning that they did not eat breakfast that morning. Schools provide free breakfast and lunch for children whose family income qualifies them for this program.
10. Public school in America is free. Children have very few expenses for school - backpacks, folders, notebooks, binders, pencil boxes. In poor areas, some charities will provide these items for needy children.

We are very fortunate in America. Yet I still see other, more subtle barriers to education today.

My Title 1 team and I went through the cumulative files (the "permanent record") of every child in our school this spring, organizing and cleaning them out. Our school has Transitional Kindergarten (TK), Kindergarten, and grades 1-6, housing about 500 children. The school is in a middle-class area, although we qualify for Title 1 funding, which is given to schools in lower socioeconomic areas. While we do have some impoverished children, many of our students own cell phones, iPods, computers, and game systems; wear clean, stylish clothing; and participate in multiple after-school activities such as sports, martial arts, or cheerleading (all of which require fees).

These were the things that we found most interesting as we went through the files.

1. By the time children hit 6th grade, the majority of them had been in two or more schools. Probably fewer than 25% had been in our school since Kindergarten. Some of the children had been in over four schools, with a few who had been in close to 10 schools.

2. Many children had attendance issues. Many are consistently tardy. Absences were also an issue for some. With over 14 weeks off from school a year, families still took weeks off during the school year for vacations. Some children that I have worked with are absent nearly 10% of the time.

3. Many families provided past due bills or utility shut-off notices as their proof of address. This shows the severe financial problems families are having today and explains some of the high rate of mobility.

4. Many children had IEP's in their file or were part of English as a Second Language (ESL or ELD) programs.

These are all barriers to education. Student who have been in many schools get a fragmented education. Some topics are never learned when students move due to the different programs in different schools. If children are not in school, or are tardy, they are not learning. Students with family financial problems move more frequently and have less access to educational opportunities. We have students who have never been to the zoo or the ocean (less than an hour away). Students with learning or language issues take longer to learn, which is a problem in today's fast-paced, standards-driven learning environment.

The breakdown of the family is behind many of these barriers. Many of our children are from divorced homes and have shared custody issues. Often, the parents' issues severely impact the children - whether from violence (we had a child who witnessed the murder of one of his parents by the other parent), nasty disagreements that put children in the middle, the financial strains of single-parent families, and the uprooting caused by moving away from negative home situations.

Economic issues are also part of the problem. Some of our families are unemployed or underemployed and struggle to make ends meet. Education is difficult when the child does not know if he or she will get dinner that night or will have to sleep in their car. We've had children who have to go to late-night jobs with their parent because there is no one else to watch them. Other children are unsupervised while their parents are at work and have to feed themselves and their younger siblings. You can be sure that hungry, exhausted, or unsupervised children are not doing their homework!

A larger problem that I have seen in my 17 years in education, though, is a lack of value for learning. Many parents do not see education as a priority, and that view gets transferred to the child. We have had parents in our school who tell their children that they do not have to do their homework. Parents do not help with school projects or make sure homework is done. Some parents never even look inside their child's backpack at all during the school year.

Many children do not value education, either. Most children rush through their assignments, just wanting to be done with it, not really caring if the work is done correctly or at a high level. When I try to guide a child to the correct answer, he or she will get frustrated, wanting me just to give the answer. When the assigned work is done, most students will choose to talk to other kids rather than read a book or do some other educational activity.

Even the books they select from the library are discouraging. Most children choose to read books that are about kids just like they are - middle-class kids dealing with everyday issues. While I am happy to see them reading, it is pretty shallow. Children rarely select books about children from other countries or historical eras. They are not using fiction to learn about other cultures or ways of life.

American pop culture also does not value education or literary pursuits. Children know all about their favorite sports stars or celebrities, can sing along to their favorite songs from "American Idol" and watch endless hours of reality shows. Children pick up that the important thing in life is to be rich and famous, even with all of the attendant problems to that lifestyle. If you were to ask most of my students what they want to be when they are grown up, they would reply "Rich," "A basketball star," or "A singer." Any job that requires a college degree or higher is seen as too much work or effort.

America has some very real problems. Compared with third-world countries, our problems may seem slight. But the end result is the same: Children are not learning like they should be. A child like Malala, who lived in an impoverished area, shows that there are some bright spots in the world. Malala clearly demonstrates that a child who is internally motivated and given opportunity can learn, even in difficult situations.

America's children all have the opportunity. What will it take to make them grasp it and see where it will take them?

On Parenting College Students (originally published October 8, 2013)

Apparently, parenting doesn’t end when your prodigy receives his hard-earned high school diploma. It just changes into different, less hands-on, and in many ways, tougher forms.

Our oldest son went away to college a year ago. He’s in Flagstaff, a six-hour drive, one state and one time zone (for part of the year) away. It was hard to send him off, with a Jeep full of boxes and clothing. We helped move in his stuff, gave him a hug and a kiss (surprisingly, he let us) and told him to make good choices. Then we drove away.

The university, knowing parents, wouldn’t let us into his class-choosing session with the counselor. Parents were banned from the entire building, with students posted at the doors reminding us to let our kids grow up. Well played, NAU.

On the first day of his classes, he called us. He was late to a class due to having to travel clear across campus in too little time. For some reason, the door was locked and he couldn’t get in. What should he do?

Being 420 miles away, I gave him some options: Email the teacher! Try again! Do something! And then he made the best choice: Change the class session so he wouldn’t have to worry about being late every time.

We gave advice, he listened, and then he made the choice that was best for him. Success!

There were times when we were glad the distance kept us from knowing everything: “I overslept the other day and missed class because my bedroom only has a tiny window and it’s pitch dark in there.” “Oh, what did you figure out?” “I moved my alarm clock across the room.” Yay!

Or, “I went around a corner in my Jeep when it was really icy and skidded some.” Didn’t need to know that. And I don’t really need one more thing to worry about. Please don’t tell us everything!

Now, our youngest has started college. He’s living at home and commuting 25 miles each way. Fortunately, it’s on only one freeway, easy on-and-off. I say this because my son has missed exits for entire freeways. Multiple times. “Really, Mom, there are no signs that tell you the 10 freeway is coming up!” There are four. Yes, I counted them.

I also worry because he was in a terrible accident in January where his car, his pride and joy for seven months, was totalled. It was almost worse because it was completely not his fault; the lady made an illegal turn into him. I say worse, because all of us now know that accidents can happen, even if you’re doing everything right. For the longest time after the accident, I nearly had a heart attack every time he drove his car. And yet I had to let him go. Sadly, he has a different attitude now. We got him new rims and tires for his replacement car with the insurance money. He wasn’t sure he wanted to spend the money, because, after all, what if someone hits him again? I hate to see my son so jaded, already.

But I digress. Parenting a stay-at-home college student is a whole other thing. He’s at home, and I know when he’s studying and when he’s not. I know when his projects and papers are due. I know what time he should be out the door.

And I’m trying to say nothing. After all, if he was away, I wouldn’t know any of those things.

So, I leave the house when he’s still asleep and hope he remembered to set his alarm and leave on time. (So far, so good). I’ve only been a little naggy about getting his papers done. I’ve only looked at his papers when he asked me to check them over for spelling and grammar. I tried not to help him on his soldering project, except he needed me to hold the wire while he manipulated soldering iron and solder.

It’s harder for me to treat him this way. It would be so easy to fall into old middle-school and high-school habits. But he’s in college now for himself, not to please us. And we have to trust that if it’s important to him, he’ll take care of business.

Both of our boys have risen to the challenge. Our oldest didn’t get the grades he wanted his first semester. When he was upset about it, I just told him that he knew what he needed to do. He did, and raised his grades a whole grade point second semester.

So far, our youngest has been getting B’s in college (at least, that’s what he’s shown me!). Again, he knows what he needs to do.

That’s the whole point of raising kids…so they are doing what they should because they want to, not because we told them to. So they can make good choices about classes, studying, and managing their time. It’s been a hard road, but it’s worth it at the end.

Midterms are coming up soon…and I will try to stay out of it, no nagging.

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Cleaning Out (originally published July 31, 2013)

Today I tackled the monster under the stairs. That’s the big closet where we throw everything when we don’t know where else to put it. Suitcases? Check. Giant sleeping bags that could probably sleep more than one person? Got two of those. Bags of tissue paper, gift boxes, and gift bags? Lots of those. I even have gift bags with Noah’s Ark on them, which means that they date from Adam’s baby shower, twenty years ago.

Stacks of DVD’s and old videos. Those I carefully sorted and alphabetized. Someday we might want to watch the Mighty Morphin Power Rangers movie again. Then again, probably not. But it’s under M, just so you know. We did toss the videos we had taped of old Barney, Sesame Street, and Shining Time Station episodes. Pretty sure the boys have outgrown those.

That stuff was easy to clean out. It was the other stuff that was harder.

Two boxes of crayons, colored pencils, protractors, and other homework necessities. Don’t need that anymore. But that didn’t go in the trash. I sorted it all out, bagged it in ziplocks and stowed it elsewhere. You never know when you might need a burnt sienna crayon, after all.

Three bags of college brochures and SAT prep materials. That all went in the trash. College decisions have been made, tests taken. So much stress at the time, but irrelevant now.

Lots of half-used notebooks with equations and notes. Old folders with Yu-Gi-Oh (is that even on TV anymore?) and Star Wars characters. All trash now.

Adam’s backpack, abandoned after graduation, and since he left three days later, never emptied. My son saw no point in taking anything out of his backpack. I think it had the contents of his entire senior year stowed inside. His philosophy was, “If I never take anything out of it, I’ll never lose anything, and I’ll have everything I need.” Yep, plus lots of other stuff. 50 cents and two bags of candy inside. Permission slips I had signed and apparently never turned in by him. How did he get to go on that field trip, anyway? Progress reports of grades. Might have wanted to have seen those at the time, but maybe he was sparing himself the parental drama.

I carefully went through all the papers, not wishing to throw something valuable away. My efforts were rewarded – I found the letter he had written to himself when he was a freshman, returned to him his senior year. Priceless. A poem he had written about himself. Things he’ll want to have later, a portrait of who he was back in high school. The letter’s envelope also had his freshman year band photo and two ticket stubs – one to a Ducks hockey game, one for the Star Trek movie. A mini time capsule.

You know how when you clean out one thing, it just leads to more tasks? That was my day. The crayons and colored pencils had to go somewhere. I have another stash of kids’ art supplies in the kitchen buffet. Time to pull all of that stuff out, sort it, and add the other items. We still have coloring books down there. Those stayed, with the random pieces of construction paper and the four bags of crayons. We will have grandchildren someday, after all.

Above the shelves, we have four drawers, some filled with more junk than others. Two of them were so full that when you tried to close them, stuff spilled out the top and fell onto the shelf below. It wouldn’t have been so bad, except for some reason the push pins were what had escaped and were all over the place. Apparently we need two boxes of push pins and about eight rolls of Scotch tape. Who knew?

So now I was tackling the junk drawers and organizing all those odds and ends. That’s when Josh walked in on me. “Why are you cleaning out those drawers, Mom?” Really. Like he’s never been frustrated trying to find a Post-It note that’s actually sticky on the back and a pen that works. By the way, if you need a pen or a pencil, see me. I have about a thousand, and that’s not exaggerating a whole lot.

The good part? Sending my husband a picture of the closet that you can actually walk into without crushing something. Realizing that I will probably never have to buy office supplies again in my life. Tossing two giant bags of trash and saving two bags and a box of random things for a future yard sale. And marking another passage in the life of our family, one that doesn’t require lunchboxes and notebook paper.

The Cruelest Job (originally published July 29, 2013)

I’ll say it up front: I miss my oldest son. Adam graduated from high school on May 22, 2012, and left the nest on May 25. He spent an amazing summer touring the country with the Academy Drum and Bugle Corps. After only two weeks home, filled with shopping and laundry, he was off again. Since that May, he has only been home for weekends and school breaks. As I write this, his room is filled with a mountain of boxes from his college dorm while he is touring for a second summer with the Academy.

Last summer, I missed him so much it ached. I counted down the days until we would see him. In a way, I didn’t want it to stop aching. That would mean that I was getting used to him being gone, and I wasn’t sure I was okay with that. But after a four-week long visit at Christmas, I realized that I missed him less. I was adjusting to his absence, as it should be.

In August of 2012, my husband and I delivered him to Northern Arizona University, moved in all of his stuff, and left him there. Driving home, both of us a little misty-eyed, we looked at each other and realized, “We did it!” And then it hit me.

This is what we had been working toward for the past 19 years: The moment when we could leave our child at college, a complete and prepared human being, and know that he would be successful. In the telescopic way that memory shrinks our life down, I realized that every action we had done as parents had unconsciously led us to this very moment. From enduring two-year-old tantrums to hours sitting supervising homework, we had been molding and shaping him into becoming a self-reliant and responsible person. So that he could leave us.

And that’s why parenthood is the cruelest job. From the moment when the nurse places that tiny baby in our arms for the first time, we start the process of preparing that baby to leave us one day. His utter dependence on us slowly dwindled as he learned to do things by himself. From rolling over, to crawling, to walking, he slowly took steps to independence. There was no clinging to my leg in preschool. He would wriggle out of my grasp, so eager to play with his little friends. The exhausted mother of a toddler, thinking “When will he ever grow up?” doesn’t realize how quickly the days go by, how soon he will be grown and gone.

This day, though unseen at the time, shaped so many of our decisions regarding our son. Holding him back in first grade as he struggled with ADD and vision problems so that he would be successful in school. Encouraging him to go to the 5th and 6th grade church camp alone when all of his friends were going to the junior high camp. Telling him as he started high school that this was his chance to reinvent himself.

In each situation, he succeeded. He made new friends when he repeated a grade and became a good student. He learned that he could go someplace by himself, make friends, be accepted, and have a great time. And in high school, he joined the marching band, switched instruments to play the tuba, and became section leader twice. What he learned in these situations would come into play as he prepared to leave for college.

As parents, we see the irony: This child, whom we love so much, we have to teach, guide, and mold so that he can fly on his own. We want to hold on to him, saying, “Don’t leave us!” and yet that’s exactly the wrong thing to do. With tears in our eyes, we let him go, knowing that he will come back…but it will never be the same.

Exploring Prejudice with Hannah Goldsmith and Azar Nafisi (originally published July 17, 2013)

Prejudice and racism are hot topics right now in the news. George Zimmerman and Paula Deen are just two current examples of people who have been accused of being racist.

I, too, was once accused of being racist – in, of all places, a Christian school. As a white girl raised in multicultural southern California in the 1970′s, I was used to being around people of different ethnicities. I didn’t know that one of my kindergarten friends was half-white/half-black until I was in high school. She was just Lynn to me. I had friends who had been adopted from Korea and Vietnam. We thought that was interesting and different, but we liked them for who they were. We didn’t ignore race; it just wasn’t an issue.

My high school was in La Habra, and we joked about it being in the “barrio”. We had a large Hispanic population as well as other races. Just last year, my friend Julie told me that our school was considered low-income, which had enabled her to get a discount on a musical instrument. I had never noticed.

The issue came when I was teaching third grade. At the beginning of the year, I always seated my students in alphabetical order. After a few weeks, I would move them around based on behavior issues or just for variety. I was careful to make sure that all of the kids had a chance to sit in the front of the class.

So, after Back-to-School night, I was shocked when my principal called me in. Some of my African-American parents were upset and said I was being racist in the way my kids were seated. Then I realized: I had four African-American students in consecutive alphabetical order, and that row happened to be against the wall of the room. I had never noticed it. To me, they were just Austin, Michael, Alisha. Race had never entered my thinking.

My principal was kind and supportive. He told me that I didn’t have to change the seating chart, but I should consider it. I went back to my room that day and rearranged the desks. I was careful to spread out my African-American, Hispanic, and white students, as well as considering which students could or could not sit next to each other.

The funny thing was that I felt MORE racist making my seating chart that way. I had never considered race, and now I was forced to. For the remaining three years of my teaching career at that school, I always had to include race as a consideration in my room.

So, was I being racist because as a white girl, I never considered race? A book I was reading last month caught my attention. The book, The Monster in the Box, by Ruth Rendell, is a mystery set in contemporary England. Rendell’s characters are a group of police detectives. One character caught my eye: Hannah Goldsmith, a young detective sergeant. Hannah is a character who is deliberately politically correct, determined not to be racist at any cost. She is careful to use language that reflects equality and is horrified when the older people say things that could be racist.

Yet Hannah, too, finds herself in a quandary. She visits the home of a Middle Eastern family and is surprised that the furnishings are English. The mother of the family sneers at her, asking Hannah what she had expected – Oriental rugs? Hannah realizes with a shock that she had expected those things. Hannah is forced to realize that even the most careful person on race issues can still have preconceived notions about race.

When we think of it, we all have preconceived notions about others. It’s simply because they are different from us, living lives in a different way than we do. We have ideas about how the rich and the poor live, about city dwellers and country folk. We see images on television about people of other races and form conclusions.

Then, when I was reading Reading Lolita in Tehran, by Azar Nafisi, I came on this same issue myself. Nafisi describes how her reading club girls would come into her apartment in their black robes and then remove them to reveal colorful t-shirts and jeans. I was surprised to read of girls with stylish haircuts, makeup, painted toenails, and fashionable clothing in Iran. The images I had in my head from television had never shown that to me. I shouldn’t have been surprised, knowing that women are really the same the world over, but I was.

I realized I was full of preconceived notions, too.

But isn’t that why we read books and magazines? To learn more about others and to expand our thinking? To gain appreciation of the magnitude and breadth of our world? To walk in the shoes and lives of those who are different than we are?

I love this quote from Nafisi: “Someone who is engrossed in literature has learned that every individual had different dimensions to his personality…Those who judge must take all aspects of an individual’s personality into account. It is only through literature that one can put oneself in someone else’s shoes and understand the other’s different and contradictory sides and refrain from becoming too ruthless.” (p. 118)

And that’s it – we all have different and contradictory sides. We are all people who are still learning and growing and changing over time. Our personalities are not static. We can’t fully understand people of other races because we haven’t lived their life and walked their path. But we can accept that we’re all human, making mistakes and acting in contradictory ways.

Is Paula Deen a racist because she used the “n-word”? Is George Zimmerman racist because he had a preconceived notion about a young black man? Maybe. But aren’t we all, a little bit, when we look honestly at ourselves?

Literature teaches us that are all frail human beings, and therefore we must refrain from being too ruthless on others. That is one of the reasons why I read.