They came rather quickly and I was surprised. After all, Corey left the state last year to attend high school. Why the tears now?

It’s probably the idea that he really is on a new journey now. Even though he is a mere 15 minutes away, which is not something every college parent can say, he is moving into a different phase. K-12 education is over for all our kids.

The words from Isaiah 43 provided a great start to the day: When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. He will be with us in the next journey of college life, too.

Saturday mornings in my childhood home on Swather meant pancakes and cleaning. My mother kept to this routine until she and my father moved out of their Cutlerville home. Around 9 AM, she would turn the radio on to the oldies, get the sweeper out, and away she would go. If I decided to sleep in, too bad. The sound of the vacuum humming would greet me as my eyes opened to a new day.

Her cleaning routine taught me so much as I continue to work through the transition of principalship to the classroom. On some days, the two worlds collide. What am I supposed to be doing right now? Leftover principal tasks or planning for a new school year?

I am constantly searching for items I hurriedly moved two years ago when we left for Michigan. Where ARE my teaching posters? As I glanced around my former classroom, I realized that the cursive alphabet letters are gone. Where did they go? Did I move them somewhere in the school? I am also looking for home items as we prepare to move Corey to Purdue. Where DID I place some of these things?

But as I think about my mother, I remember her many routines. Her routines and checklists allowed her to complete the tasks she needed to accomplish. If she could not find something, she didn’t let it get to her and just said, “Oh well.” It’s something I need to remember, too. Thanks, Mom!

Only 7 months later, I am reading our Christmas cards. What happened during Christmas Break? I know what happened… a bunch of craziness. But that story is for my book, Pandemic Principal- exhibiting ridiculous amounts of grace in a Covid-19 world.

Tucked away in a box reserved for Christmas correspondence, I located a letter from my dad. I must have opened the letter and filed it for another day. What a treasure!

I love thinking about my father deciding to send Christmas cards. It’s another example of God working in his life, reminding him to think of others instead of himself. It’s another example of healing as the journey continues.

“Do you think you can make a booklet for me?” Dad asked me, eagerly. “That should be very easy, ” I replied, thinking back to the booklets created for third graders. He quickly provided me with his binder filled with a variety of poems. The topics were rather depressing, though. Third graders usually write about animals.

“How quickly can you get it done?” was his next question. I showed him a quick way to take a picture of his typed copies and then transfer it to my Google files. He smiled, excitedly. ” That will be great!” he enthusiastically answered.

As I thought back to the time after my mother’s death, I marvel at my father’s health. He is writing poems and printing them. He isn’t crying quite as much. The nurses commented that he spent the entire day outside on Friday. Wow!

I continued thinking about poetry and how my father was diagnosed with dementia. It really is quite something that he is able to write poems. Elementary students usually grimace when faced with a task of creating a poem. My father seems to enjoy it. I decided to research poetry and dementia a little more. I discovered a website: https://www.nextavenue.org/turning-memories-poetry-dementia-care/ where a person works with dementia patients to create poetry. I think my next goal will be helping him create different types of poetry when I see my father again.

For now, I will work on creating his book and thinking about the joy it will bring.

Last year, my father informed me that his favorite color was orange. Spurred on by his announcement, I purchased several items in orange: a pillow, a bed covering, and these boxes. “What’s in there?” he asked.

“Nothing much, Dad. But remember: it’s your favorite color!” I enthusiastically reminded him.

“Yeah. I guess I said that once,”he remarked.

The Color Orange Symbolizes Enthusiasm and Emotion

I found the graphic on the color orange and it makes me want to find more pops of orange for his room. Will this provide him more energy? Somehow I doubt it, but it’s worth a try. What other small pops of orange could be placed in his room?

• 

• 

• 

“Downpour of blessings,” I remarked to Mitch as we drove to MI amidst pouring rain. However, the rain stopped when we picked up my father to eat lunch at the local Russ’ restaurant.

The blessings continued as we were able to take him for lunch and then visit in his room afterwards. After eating the tasty twinburger, he perked up and spoke about various topics. His plant, as pictured, needed some help. It was a little scary!

After dropping him off, we continued our trek and visited my mother’s gravesite. Something shiny caught my eye as I viewed the site. It was a dime. Looking around, we saw currency on other gravesites as well. Apparently, leaving a coin on a gravesite is a sign that someone visited it and remembered my mother from years past. We joked about the dime and said that my mother would have asked, “Why not a quarter?” She was always trying to bargain for deals which could be downright embarassing at times!

The day ended with an early dinner with my in-laws and extended family. As we drove back to Indiana, I reflected on the downpour of blessings we observed and continue to see. God is good all the time. All the time, God is good.

It’s strange how even a store can bring up memories of my mother. Growing up, I often went shopping with my parents to Jc Penney. My mother would always comment on the name. ” Jacob Penney,” she would say, although it was founded by James Penney. We often shopped there for everything. It was one stop shopping except for groceries.

Yesterday, I found my mind going back to these times as I shopped for my father. Several texts came this past week. “Can you get me some pajamas? Mine are falling down.”

As I glanced through the pajamas, other memories came back. I remember that we often purchased chocolate covered peanuts at JCPenney. A large candy aisle was part of the store. After shopping, we headed to Raybrook Manor to visit my grandparents. My mother often purchased dresses from JCPenney, especially blazers. She loved wearing a blazer and a skirt to church, with a little brooch on the lapel.

It made me wonder if other people also have certain memories of department stores.

I hope to visit my father next weekend for Father’s Day and will ask him. Hopefully, he will remember our many visits to JC Penney.

One of my favorite bulletin boards is the one above. When I think about confetti after the New Years’ Eve festivities, I think about a huge mess. However, spreading kindness is not messy. But why is it so hard?

After this past year, I cannot help but think about the ways kindness was NOT spread like confetti. A friend decided no longer to be my friend because of my decisions regarding masks. Another person decided to drag me through the mud by publicly tearing me down because of decisions. Another person decided to tell everyone that my face looked really ugly at times. This person decided to say this in front of others while I was standing in the group. Why? Why do people feel the need to drag others down? Can we disagree on issues without publicly assaulting someone’s character? Some will say, ” You need to have tough skin”. Okay, but when does that tough skin break?

There were others who definitely spread kindness like confetti. One person welcomed me, ” Hello, friend.” That simple hello was definitely spreading kindness. Another person sent me an encouraging note. That WAS spreading kindness like confetti. I received many flower deliveries this year. That was a definite way to encourage.

After a year in leadership, spreading kindness like confetti seems even more important than ever. A kind word makes a difference. It starts a spark of positivity that makes the world a better place.

It’s sometimes hard to put into words when a vision is fulfilled. Corey’s high school years were so different than other seniors. When we took a sabbatical in Michigan, many asked, “Will Corey remain in Michigan for his senior year?” OR ” What will you do about that?” OR, most importantly, “Where will he live?”

My answer was the same, ” God will provide.” And He did abundantly. When we first started thinking about a sabbatical, the ideas were endless. Europe, California, New York, and then East Lansing. When East Lansing did not work out, we thought about Grand Rapids and then finally, South Christian. God provided 1891, a home right near South Christian.

When the pandemic hit and we left Michigan to head back to Indiana, God provided again. Aunt Cheryl volunteered her home as a place for Corey to live. Although her home in Plainwell was somewhat of a challenge, Corey made it work and drove 25 minutes every day, despite the construction and some weather roadblocks.

Through the ups and downs of a crazy Senior year, it ended with a beautiful outside ceremony. The class motto said it all, “As waves toss the ship, my captain takes the wheel.”