School is REALLY underway

Today was the walkathon fundraiser at St. Joseph's, where the three girls attend school here in Mountain View. Gabby walked 35 laps (over 9 miles!), and raised $265: most of it from a parental lapse of judgement which led to a pledge of $5/lap. Gabby is the major fundraiser in the family this year, she has also brought in seven magazine subscriptions to date in the subscription drive.

School is going well for everyone on campus in our family: Rachel is adjusting to 7th grade, gradually building enthusiasm for the social events of the year. She is more popular this year because classmates have discovered the Twilight series of young adult novels, which she has been reading for years. She reports constant comments of "OMG, Edward is so hot!" and "Rachel this is so cool!" She has mixed feelings about the gushing, because these girls were real pains last year and are still incredibly petty. At the same time she is less alone than last year, with something to share with the other girls at last.

As I remember, the world ended in sixth grade and from then on I lived in constant heartache. I wouldn't go back to seventh grade for anything.

Rob's school year has started well. He is teaching high school Chemistry, and this is his first real year as a teacher. He loves it, is able to keep on top of the grading and all so far at least, and even gets a full nights sleep almost half the time. His school requires everyone, even teachers, to have a period of quiet reading every day, and for teachers it cannot be subject-matter content. No reading Chemistry Today journals! So I've bought him a copy of "Up the Down Staircase" and "To Sir With Love." Time to open his mind to literature beyond traditional karate books and chemistry journals.

Today is September 9. It is my late mother-in-law's birthday, she would be. . .laughing with me about it if she hadn't passed away in 2000. She was a wise woman with a sense of humor, all tied together with tremendous charity: the selfless love for others. That made for some memorable exchanges that will always color my view of events and make me laugh when I should cry.

One simple example: We were sitting at the kitchen table drinking tea with Tang and sugar in it, talking about this and that. I remember she turned to me, her eyes wide with the urgency of the message, and said, "Marry the faults you can live with."
It seemed such a timeless piece of wisdom I thought it ought to be delivered in Spanish instead of English, like an Old World proverb. Such a simple thing but really, it's as good a beginning for a happy lifetime together as anything else. The man leaves his socks on the floor - messy but you don't mind so much? Ok. Messy socks on the floor cause you impossible stress at the disruption of order and the proper place of things in the world? Very bad. Such simple, good advise, I will do it in needlepoint some day.

The humor? She said this to me after I was married to her son. Timing, Momma, always timing.

She left us in May, not exactly a month from my oldest daughter's birthday, not when anything important was happening, no special event that would be colored forever by our loss.

The disconnection to special events instead ties my memory of her death to jokes and laughter so strong we cried with laughter: It was spring, sometime in the mid to late 1990's. She was telling me about a time when she looked out her back window one night and saw a horrible, ugly, huge, rat-like thing, clumbering along the back yard fence. "Oh, that sounds like a possum," I said.

She looked at me with eyes wide and eyebrows raised. "I feel sorry for possoms," I continued. "They hybernate all winter, then in spring they come wake up and come out all groggy, and all they want to do is find a member of the opposite sex and, you know... and they stagger out into the street and WHAM get hit by a car."

She dissolved in laughter, tears and all, for minutes. Finally, she lifted her head up and said, gasping, "If..... you ever hear that I died.... and it was because I was hit by a car..... You'll know what happened..."

And we both exploded, laughing so hard tears came down our faces.

Another time, we were sitting there again, and my father-in-law went by off to his office or somewhere. She tossed a nod at him to make sure I knew who she meant, and said: "I'm just leading him on." I said, "Oh?" "Yeah. As soon as I find Mr. Right, I'm out of here." Me, too, Momma, right behind you.