Courage Doesn't Always Roar: A Teacher's Quest to Be Better Each Day

"You should be a writer," she says, hugging me through the tears as we stand outside the church on a crisp December Monday morning.  She was my Grandma's neighbor for many years and the daughter of one of her best friends, who passed away on another December day a few years ago.  Moments earlier, I had bowed by the altar near my Grandmother's casket, climbed the steps, paper in hand. I adjusted the microphone and saw the faces of my family and some friends who made the journey.  It was not a packed church. There was silence. And I began, with a composure that must have been a gift of courage from above, as I am rarely composed in the face of such sadness.  It was a special honor to write about my Grandma, to honor the beautiful life she led and the love she gave to so many.  To write something and then to stand in church and read it to the family and friends gathered.  It was one small kindness I could give back to her after a lifetime of kindnesses...

"Thank you for being a friend, Travel down the road and back again. Your heart is true,  You're a pal and a confidante." -"Golden Girls" theme song When I was a little girl, my sister, Christine, and I would sometimes sleep over our grandparent's house.  We called it staying at the "hotel" and it was a treat! Often we would first go out for Chinese food (I would drink too much tea and eat too many noodles with duck sauce- my favorite!) and then go back to Grandma and Grandy's cozy "hotel." We would change into pajamas and Grandy would open the bed tucked away in the sofa in the den.  Then Grandma would put fresh smelling sheets on the bed and at 9:00, we would watch "Golden Girls" together.  My childhood is filled with memories of my grandparents- their porch in the summer, Christmas Eves around their sparkling tree, Sunday dinners, and celebrations of all kinds. Being picked up from half-days of school by...

It's a black cloud kind of night. My beloved Grandmother is facing some health challenges.  At almost 90, nothing is to be taken lightly.  It is the horrific anniversary of the shootings at Sandy Hook. All of those precious lives gone in an instant. Grief so unimaginable. Country singer Joey Feek, who is dying of Stage 4 cervical cancer, attempts to play and teach sign language to her baby with Down Syndrome. The pictures make me cry. Sadness envelopes me tonight. Such a sad Slice of Life, but I guess the truth is, some slices are just sad. Some slices cannot be sweetened by platitudes and promises of brighter mornings. I won't stay here for long, in this place of darkness, but tonight I reside.  Tonight I am angry about a world where a child is dropped off at school and gunned down moments later.  Tonight I'm gutted by the unfairness of a new mother to a child with special needs dying of cancer. Why some lives are cut short. Tonight I'm wor...

I first met Miss Molly Mouse when my son, Alex, was 4 months old.  Play Hooray, a group that provides entertainment for children through birthday parties and other venues, was running some sessions for babies at my local library.  I was anxious to get out and meet other moms and provide stimulation for my 4 month old.  He wasn't as interested in being stimulated. I still remember "Dancing Queen" blasting, maracas shaking, and Alex sleeping away in my lap.   The star of Play Hooray, however, is the puppet Molly Mouse.  Molly has skirts for every holiday and season and she lives in a box that resembles the Dunkin' Donuts munchkin box.  We discovered that an elderly mother of the Play Hooray entertainers hand sews all of Molly's skirts!  When my daughter, Megan, was born, I knew Molly Mouse would be in her future.  I was back to work, so my mom would take Megan to her Play Hooray class.  Here is Megan, a couple of years ago, enjoyin...