A Letter to A Teenager

Dear Teenager Reid,

This is being written one week before your four month birthday. And, it is written in love. Loving you is the best thing I can do. It is impossible for me to imagine you as a teenager, but you’ll be there soon. I know that the love I feel for you now will not fade or change over my lifetime. You have captured my heart, and that is where you will remain.

As a high school teacher, I spend a majority of my weekdays with teenagers. Well, I'm pretty fortunate to do what I do. For the most part, I get along pretty well with these teenagers. Because of this, I am hopeful that when you are older that we'll be close. I think other adults who don't interact regularly with teens are scared of them. They don't know what to expect or how to treat them. It's like they fear the gap in age will remind them how much older they really are.

When you are a teenager, I hope you still see me as a person, and still love me as your mom.

I see so many teens struggle in their relationship with their parents ...

 I hear about parents who are too overprotective and constantly accuse their child, and always assume the worst. I hear about parents who put up a wall between the child and themselves, almost as if wishing for the teen years to pass quickly. I hear about parents who just don't seem to care. They just distance themselves, or act naive to the realities. I hear about parents who are blind to the hurt or pain their child is going through. Parents who just smile, say “it's a phase”, and look the other way.

Well, Reid, I'm not perfect. And I won't be by the time you are a teenager. But, I promise, I'll always love you. I will be there for you, even when you don't want me to be. Remember I'm a person too. I've felt pain, and I've felt joy, and helping you cope or celebrate is my duty and delight as a parent. Sharing in your life is so important to me.

Being a teenager is tough. I'm here. Allow me to be part of your life.

I love you,

Mom

A Poem for Days When Things Never Go Right

Backwards blues.
Sideways secrets.
Moments escaping the grip of my hands.

Lists that go unchecked.
Attitudes that steamroll.
Loud crashes that deaden.

Lost minutes, lost hours, lost days.
Picture myself wandering in circles
focusing on all the wrong things.

Mind closed. Mouth hanging open.
Wrong thoughts. Wrong words.

but, it's a bad day,
not a bad life.
Try again.

A Letter to Throw into the Ocean

Dear Death,

You're my biggest fear. I want to tell you why.

We can't escape you. We can act as if we are better, and you don't bother us. But, it's a lie. You're always there.

Things are so happy, so rosy, so good, and I'm scared for the bad. I'm not saying that I walk around with sunshine following me and flowers blooming as I step about. No, things aren't Mary Poppins cheer-y, but they are happy. At least to me, as my happiness isn't the same as another's. But, life happens. And, it's not all good. And, it's naive for me to pretend it is, or will be, but I want it to be.

Death, you took away my mother. A beautiful woman stolen from me and my family. You took with you memories that will never exist, and smiles that will never be seen. It was so tough, and tears fell, and still do.  But, almost ten years later -- the sadness isn't as deep or heavy as it once was.

What frightens me now is losing more.

I look around and I am surrounded by love. I see love personified into so many beings. But that can't last.
Death must happen. What if I lost him? Or her? Or both? Or more? And, in the end, don't we lose them all?

I know that pain, I've felt that pain, and I don't want to feel it again.
I have no comfort. I know no way to stop you. You are always there.

Death, please go away. Don't hurt me.

Stay away,
me

A Poem To Carry With You

You know the expression, life is hard.
Well, it's true.
But, here's the deal...
Don't make it harder than it needs to be.

Be confidant.
You are strong and proud.
Show it.

Be Loud.
You have a voice.
Share it.

Be Kind.
Others need love.
Give it.

The world can be hard,
but it is a beautiful place.
Find magic in moments.
Be true to yourself.
Live.
Celebrate.
Enoy it.

Introduction Poem

Silent heads bent over the desk.

Pencils gripped firmly in bony hands

while etching on

stark white paper with thin blue veins.

The pencil falls silently to the page.

The words gush, tumble, scream out to the page.

The thoughts clutter and fight their way to the page.

The ideas shudder to life and exist for the moment.

Then a pause, before it starts again.

This pattern continues

day after day

week after week

month after month

and every day, new pencils, new papers, new words, new thoughts, new discoveries.

And, I, as their teacher, howl and delight in what I see

These students, they inspire me.