The Heart of my Story

Family

A couple years ago I started using the log flume story when teaching small moments in fifth grade. We asked the kids, “What’s the smallest moment that makes a story?” And then we helped them zoom in to a moment, choose a small piece of it and make it into a flip book.

My big story takes place on an evening at an amusement park.

My small moment is the time my son wanted to ride the log flume.

There are flashbacks too. There’s a short mention of the time I loved to ride the log flume as a child, and a small narrative about forcing my kids to ride the log flume at Hershey Park, not remembering how very scary it could be at the top if the ride. The way the boat tips forward and back, the way you feel like you are certainly going to fall off the side, the way the boat feels like it is about to tip all the way forward. Traumatic.

The story itself is pretty simple. With only a few tickets left at the amusement park, and my memory of how scary the top of the log flume is, I turn to my dad. The kids call him Bop. Bop doesn’t like water. He almost never swims in the pool in the summer, and when I was a kid, you just knew not to involve him in any water play.

Bop wants to make sure there he won’t get too wet.

I don’t remember. I don’t think you get too wet.

He and my son get on the ride, and the rest of us watch them go up.

It’s not until the boat starts tipping back and forth on the top, that I start remembering that actually you do get pretty wet.

We watch the boat go down. We watch the giant wave splash over the boat. We watch my son and my dad step out of the boat, soaking wet, walking down the steps. There’s a look, a frown, and then thankfully, there’s laughter.

This is the moment I zoom in on.

The students help me plan my flip book sequence, and then they begin planning their own.

This year I also used the log flume example when I was teaching about the heart of the story.

“What’s important in here that I want my reader to hold on to?” I asked a class, thinking aloud. “Maybe it’s this idea that my dad did the log flume for my son, even though it wasn’t his favorite thing. Maybe it’s that sometimes in life, you do things for others?”

I wasn’t sold on the heart of my story though. I wondered if maybe I needed to think of another story to use.

And then my cat, Theodore, died on a Sunday night.

It was an awful night. I didn’t know how I was going to go back to the vet to pick up Theodore’s body by myself. Of course my mom offered to drive over to help me.

“I’m on my way,” she said over FaceTime and less than a half an hour later she was at my door.

Next to her was my dad, shovel in hand. He thought he may as well help.

I showed my dad where to dig the grave on the edge of the wooded area of my yard. I held the flashlight, he dug through the rocky, sandy, root filled dirt.

“Well,” I told him, “I didn’t think I’d ever be digging a grave by flashlight with you. I hope we don’t have to do this again.”

But while I watched him dig, I started to understand the heart of my story.

My mom and I drove to pick up Theodore, and when we got back, my parents watched me and the boys cry and give Theodore one last scritch.

My mom swaddled Theo’s body, and my dad helped her lower him into the grave.

After they left, the boys and I cried some more. I told them that I hoped when they remembered this terrible day, they would also remember that Granny and Bop dropped everything and came over. It’s a big deal, I pointed out, and the boys agreed.

Thats what it means to show up for people.

The next day in fifth grade writing, we were talking more about the heart of the story. I couldn’t talk about Theodore yet without crying, but I wanted to tell the class that I figured out the heart of my story:

Sometimes in life we are lucky enough to have people show up for us.

Theodore Hobbes

Pets, Slice of Life
Part of Slice of Life Writing on Two Writing Teachers.

There’s a video of Theodore that I can’t stop watching. He’s on his back, on my lap, purring.

It’s the purr
the reach of his paw
the pink of his nose
his eyes staring at me

It’s his back legs resting on a pillow

He was sick on Saturday.
He died on Sunday.

My youngest keeps saying “He was just so young.”

Before I took him to the emergency vet, I had to look up his birthday. I couldn’t remember which year we adopted him.

Born in 2017
Home in 2018
Died in 2023

He was just so young.

For the first couple of years he and his sister Talula had to be isolated away from the dog. Thank goodness we finally got our dog Finn trained, but I can’t stop thinking of those wasted years when he didn’t have the run of the house. I’m sorry, Theodore.

He was the fluffiest cat I’ve ever had.
His name was Theodore Hobbes
We called him Theo
and somehow the kids called him Bearlious
and I was known to
occasionally
call him
fluffer-nutter-peanut-butter.

He was the sweetest.

He used to wake up from his nap to check on the other cats and the dog whenever there was a little scuffle. When our newest kitten Clyde got into it with Finn, Theo would shuffle in, usually still groggy. He would walk over to Finn and give him a swat.

He liked to sleep on my head at night, and swat all my things off my nightstand in the early morning.

The vet said his urinary blockage was most likely caused by stress. It could have been his change in routine after Clyde came home from surgery and was isolated in my room for two weeks. (No head sleeping for Theodore.) It could have been something we weren’t even aware of, like a new cat in the neighborhood.

Clyde is our baby cat. He had a urinary blockage problem and needed surgery a few weeks ago. But Theodore? Theodore never had this problem. I don’t understand.

I miss him, and I don’t understand.

Did he try to take care of Clyde by taking Clyde’s health problem? Seems like a crazy question unless you ever met Theodore and watched him take care of his family.

He used to love sitting by the window next to the frontdoor — the one he could just reach — and just stare.

Sometimes you’d walk into a room and he was sitting in front of a mirror just looking at himself.

Usually you’d walk into a room and he was napping.

If you were lucky enough to have him sit on your lap, like I was most mornings, you would have a chance to scritch and scratch his soft, soft fluffy self.

Scratch him in the right spot and he’d lick his front leg. Without fail. Full of party tricks, this one.

Grief is full of wishes.
I wish I snuggled him even more.
I wish I never got annoyed when he tried to sleep on my head while I was reading in bed.
I wish I took him to the vet sooner this past weekend.
I wish we had more time with him.

We miss him so much here.

But, I know Theodore is fine wherever he is.

What do I know about cat after-life, but that he’s free of any pain.

I just hope that somehow he is in a lap
purring
reaching his paws —
and that somebody
is loving his
pink pink nose
his pink pink toes
and his fluff
oh
that fluff

September 26

Family, Slice of Life
Part of Slice of Life Writing by Two Writing Teachers


I might have a cold coming on,
or is it allergies?
my son made me hot cocoa
he wasn’t even making it for himself
just for me
with maple mini marshmallows
was it the smooth hot drink
or the kindness that made my throat
forget to be scratchy?

these rainy September days
the coziest
stay inside days
I love sweater weather!
but also
note to self
find the therapy lamp
because the sun is not around so much

I’m exhausted
are you?

Just Call me Ma

Slice of Life
Part of Slice of Life Writing, from Two Writing Teachers

I’m glad I watched so much Little House on the Prairie when
I was a kid
and when my daughter
was a kid

I feel it has prepared me

My daughter was madly in love with Charles
Who wouldn’t be?
Pa Ingalls
Working, farming, playing the fiddle
Played by Michael Landon

But, it’s Ma Ingalls I was thinking about today
She worked and farmed too – sure
She sewed everyone’s clothes – yep
Once she had to cut open her own leg
when it was infected and she was alone – of course
Plus, she made breakfast for everyone

This morning I realized I needed to rewash my dishes
Since my neighborhood is under a boil water advisory
I realized I needed to repack my son’s lunch
Rewash his strawberries
Maybe not drink the coffee I had set up the night before

I boiled water in a kettle
Let it cool a bit
Washed the strawberries
and all the lunch containers
with safe, boiled water

So you can just call me Ma

I mean, then I told my kids to grab a granola bar, and I stopped at Starbucks on the way to an appointment —

But still.

You did Slice of Life with us in third grade!

Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life
Part of Slice of Life Writing on Two Writing Teachers

“You did slice of life with us in third grade!”

That’s how one fifth-grader remembers me.

Today was the first day of school, and soon, if I’m lucky, I’ll get to write with kids again.

So.

I was thinking.

For months I’ve been paused.

“Prewriting!” My writing friend says.

If I’m going to teach kids about writing —

I better start writing again.

March 31 My Plants

Reflections on coaching, Reflections on teaching, Slice of Life

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers

I’m keeping all of my plants a little bit alive.

I think it’s because I give them each the same amount of water. Once a week, maybe every two weeks, I remember to water them.

I know they each came with care instructions. My money plant does better if I give it two ice cubes once a week. My cactus is supposed to dry out before I water it again. I have some succulents I’m supposed to water from the bottom, and an African Violet that used to be one of a pair… it needs lukewarm water poured from the side. Oh, and a new jade plant that I need to make sure not to overwater.

But they all seem to survive if I just water them about once a week, sometimes forgetting.

Equitable watering for all.

I mean I do a little bit of intervention. If one of the plants really needs an extra dose of water that day, I’ll do it.

But for the most part, I’m not differentiating between plants. If I had a green thumb, then maybe I’d be able to decide what’s best for each and every plant. I think there is an app that helps you determine what your plants needs. There’s probably plant food suited for each one. I bet they could each thrive!

But this way I know that the plants are at least surviving. If one of them needs a little extra water, surely they could all use it.

What’s good for the cactus is just going to have to work for the others.

I even put some fake plants in there to inspire my other plants to do better.

March 27 Signs from Beyond

Slice of Life

I’m writing every day of March for the Slice of Life Challenge at Two Writing Teachers

My friend has been gone for a few years now, but sometimes she sends me messages. Usually, I see hummingbirds or cardinals or bunnies and rainbows at the times I need them most. Sometimes she’s in my dreams.

But imagine my surprise when today, in the middle of presenting at in-service, my phone told me she was on Snapchat.

Somehow I think she’s laughing about this.

Either that or she has been trying to tell me something and I’m not getting it, so she’s trying social media.

Or, maybe she just wanted me to have something to write about today.

Thanks, Mardi!