Ladder Climbing Days Are Over

My ladder-climbing days are over. Not literally...figuratively. I can still climb a ladder to get on the roof if I want to...although I need some coaxing and coaching to climb down. The climb up is always easy...the climb down scares me. But I'm not scared of getting off the figurative ladder right where I am. There was a time when I was ambitious...when I wanted to get to the top of my profession...when where I was just wasn't good enough for me...or maybe satisfying is a better word. I've never considered myself particularly successful. Diligent...yes. Driven to succeed...yes. Hard working...yes. But the abstract idea of success has been elusive. Four college degrees...count them...4...including a Ph.D which still sits rolled up somewhere with a little coffee stain at the top. By some standards, that's successful...and good for those who have earned them, because they don't come cheap and they don't come easy. I think, in the back of my mind I thought that more education, a higher position...dare I say it...more stuff would make me feel like I had arrived. Where, I don't know. But the trip up was exhausting and not worth the sacrifice. And I still wasn't satisfied with myself. Gradually, over the course of a few months, after I have "simplified" as a friend calls it, after I have examined my life closely and found myself lacking in areas painful to acknowledge, I'm working on those areas more than the climb to the top. I'm working on peace, serenity,smiling, being grateful to God for the untold blessings He has given me and which I don't deserve, patience, charity, love, laughter...and a sweeter spirit. I have come to believe I have arrived at the key to my purpose and it has nothing to do with rungs on a figurative ladder. I don't want to be at the top of my profession...but I do want to be the best I can be in my profession. I don't want to posture for recognition...fame or fortune...the fame and fortune thing is a joke because I am in education...I don't want to jockey for position or whatever "up the ladder" is. I am finished climbing ladders. The view is great from right here.

Getting rid of stuff...

I am in full tilt get rid of stuff mode. I have been focused and relentless in purging closets, bookshelves, walls, and cabinets. This stuff has to go. Why is it that we spend the first part of our lives trying to accumulate things, money, people (oops...don't mean to offend) and then the next part of our lives trying to downsize? At least that's what I'm doing. Things: extra stuff that I thought I had to have like one more black suit, one more white blouse, one more sweater, bracelet, pair of shoes...okay...the shoes are necessary...one more latest and greatest fashion...when nobody really pays attention to what I wear. I have casserole dishes I use once in awhile, but only because I feel compelled to cook too much stuff at Thanksgiving or Christmas. If I had two casserole dishes, we wouldn't starve and I wouldn't think I have to turn into Paula Deen for a season. And everybody knows Paula has full-time help and I don't. I have a sewing machine and I can't sew...and will never learn. I have ugly lamps somebody talked me into a hundred years ago. I have 100 pairs of workout socks..although I wash clothes at least twice a week...and I work out three times a week. Do the math. I have flatwear for 24, but I never have more than 10 or 12 people to eat. Money: well, I haven't been great at accumulating money...partly because of all the stuff and partly because I love to travel. I'd rather have a precious memory and a great time than tons of money. Tons of money is really only good for one thing...helping people who need help who don't have tons of money. Remember Ebenezer Scrooge? So money and social position are of no real interest to me at all. Especially the social position thing. Talk about stressful. Wow. People: This one is tricky and difficult for me I will admit. I need people...we all do. But I really am scared. I'm afraid I will let someone down, be less than they expected, and fail...again. So maybe I'm not ready to deal with the people thing yet. I want an ordered, simple life. I don't want things to get in the way. I want calm, peaceful, contentedness (is that a word?) and I want to be joyful and good to be around. I guess what I want is less so I can be more.

Doing Nothing At All...

Americans certainly do busyness well. If you don't believe it, check Facebook. Or talk to someone about their weekend plans. Or listen to someone at work give you a rundown on everything they're doing or have done or are planning to do. And I wonder...why? Congratulations, you have a life. Or, in the case of work...maybe you're driving everybody nuts with your incessant descriptions of what you've accomplished (or not). I do my job very well, thank you. But if I spent my time telling everybody exactly what it is I do, I'd probably have to stay at work until 8:00 to actually DO my job. No, thank you. I'm going to do it and go home.

This new thing on Facebook - checking in every time you go somewhere or are with someone...why? The most interesting check-in I've heard about is checking in at church. Really? Who, except for God, really needs to know  you've just checked in at church? I do understand  in some cases you get a discount at a restaurant or business if you check in. Why? Do they think  just because someone checked in at Styx (which sounds slightly ominous to me anyway),  I'm going to throw on some decent clothes and run to eat there? Not likely.

So, my point is this: Does being really busy make us more content? Does being in the right place with the right people doing the right things validate our lives more so than if we just decide to spend some time in quiet contemplation?

I guess it depends on the person. I'm not making value judgments. I know some people who absolutely thrive on a full, hectic, crazy schedule. Or they appear to thrive on that...who really knows?

Recently I've spent a lot of time in quiet contemplation. I've prayed, read, watched the squirrels on the deck, watched my two new kittens destroy my house... And, I've decided I like the calm. I feel grounded and peaceful and centered.  And with those feelings comes a strong sense of power. I get to choose how busy or not busy I am. I decide the course of my life with a whole lot of input from God (I'm not quite to the turn everything over to God stage, but I'm working on it).

I don't feel pressured to be busy all the time or to be doing the right things with the right people at the right places and the right time. I just am enjoying talking to God without rushing through. And I'm enjoying sitting and waiting for Him to talk back.

So, I promise not to judge you if you're one of those people who is busy, busy, busy and loves it - good for you...if you won't judge me for doing nothing at all :-).

So. Who do I want to be?

My prayer for the last 26 years has been "Dear Lord, just let me live long enough to get my babies raised, successful, and happy. I don't want anyone taking care of them but me."

He answered that prayer, and for that I am thankful.

So. Now what? Everything I've read, everyone I've talked to says, "Well, now you have to figure out who you are." Easier said than done. You'd think at this stage of my life I would have figured that out. I haven't. I know what I'm not, which is a start. Who and what I'm not is pretty boring. I'm beginning to think that who I am is not as important as who I want to be. Here are things I like:

I love to spend time with my family. We're a pretty tight bunch.
I love the beach when it isn't 100 degrees.
I like my house to be clean, but I don't particularly like to clean it.
I love my job and I love to work...so shoot me. I love to work and I love my job.
I like to bake when I'm in the mood.
I don't care for television.
I like to watch Alabama football when we're winning. I hide in the bathroom when we're not,
and I put my fingers in my ears so I can't hear.
I like quiet and calm and no drama.
I love to travel for fun, but I don't like to travel for work.
I want to go back to Italy, Germany, Switzerland, France,Seattle, the Rockies,and a bunch of other places.

I love my friends, but I don't make time for them like I want to do.

So...maybe who I want to be is who I am. Maybe, in my case, I just need to stop trying to figure out who I want to be and just be Vicky. Maybe in this case...no change is necessary.

That was easy.

Two New Vibrant Women in My Life

Rose Ann Burnham Thompson, Pat Lake Grant, Linda Manning Grissom, Deb Buettner, Jenita Smith, Lorie Butler Black, Mama, Franzi Frieg, Christel Frieg, Grandma, Oma,Loucrecia Collins, Leah Keith, Sue Butler, Montez Butler, Wanda Hyatt, Jo Ann Sachs, Juliana Black Robertson,Debbie Garrison, Francie Abbott, Heidi Abbott, Courtney Thompson, Courtney Watts, Diane Barnett, Patsy Doherty...

How blessed am?

That's just the tip of the supportive female iceberg...women who have had a profound and lasting impact on my life. I have left someone out I know, and if it's you, I am sorry...like I said, this is just the tip.

Five of those women are gone,and that's so hard for me to believe. I guess that's one of the main reasons I'm determined to keep changing...so I can become a better person in honor of them. They left an indelible mark on my life, and I can't tell them, so all I can do is to be my best because they would expect that of me.

The good Lord keeps putting vibrant women in my path, and He always puts the exact ones I need. The latest two gifts from God are Amita Smith and Ann Maddox. I "inherited" them when I started my new position with Cullman County Schools. I think I had forgotten how to belly laugh. Work was stressful, home was stressful, and more often than not I found myself scowling instead of smiling. Nothing worse than an already aging face with a scowl to boot.

These two women are the funniest two women I've ever worked with. Don't get me wrong...we work and we are really good at what we do if I say so myself...but I have never laughed as much as I have the past few months. And I can't really remember what we laugh about...it's just that everything is funny.

I am so grateful for my women friends...and I consider my sister and my daughters and my niece my friends as well as my family. I am thankful for my dear long-time friends, and I am thankful for my new ones. I am one lucky girl.

Daddy and the Suzuki Shop

I drove through Cullman the other day - where Little Bit was before April 27th. There is only a blue and red cement floor, but that floor stirred so many memories for me!

The year was 1974. I graduated from West Point High School and immediately started working for Daddy at the Suzuki shop - where Little Bit was...until April 27th. Daddy worked for Bill Smith and Jimmy Waldrop who, at the time, owned the shop. My cousin, Michael Butler, was working for Daddy too. Michael, who went on to be a successful accountant, was...and probably still is...a pretty good mechanic.

I was the parts girl. Don't ge me wrong. I knew absolutely nothing about motorcycle parts, but I figured I could learn, and Daddy gave me a chance. That whole summer Daddy and I drove motorcycles home and back to work. No way would I get on a motorcycle now unless there is absolutely nobody else on the road. But I was young and Daddy always thought I could do anything I wanted - including driving a motorcycle. He taught me how to do that exactly the way he taught me how to drive anything I ever drove (a stick shift, once...and only once...one of his big trucks, a tractor, and a motorcycle) - he put me on or in and said, "Drive." When I asked, "How?" He said, "You'll figure it out."

And I did. I still do, and he still has confidence in my ability to do anything. Gotta love a daddy like that.

But back to the blue and red cement floor. It was blue and red then too. There were two wide doors into the building and a garage-type door out. In between was the sidewalk - which survived April 27th.
Before housing the Suzuki shop Mitch Smith Chevrolet was there if I remember correctly. Probably the same blue and red floors.

So the other day when I was driving through and I saw those floors, I was reminded of one day when Daddy put on a helmet that was way too small, got onto a little 75 Suzuki, and drove through the store, out the doors, down the sidwalk, and back into the other doors singing "Taking Care of Business" at the top of his lungs. Gotta love a daddy with a sense of humor, and mine has one!

For just a moment I was 17 just out of high school with the whole world in front of me. For just a moment my daddy was young. For just a moment.

I don't know what they'll build there, but I'm guessing they'll cover those blue and red cement floors. And in a few years nobody will remember them.

Some change seems small and insignificant...but this one doesn't to me.

Jo Ann

Her name was Jo Ann Sachs. She was my mentor teacher when I first started teaching at West Point High School. I was miserable that year. I had to change classrooms 5 times a day. I had overcrowded rooms and some pretty disruptive students who gave me a run for my money. And I had an assistant principal who maintained that "boys will be boys" even if that meant they spit on the floor in the hall. Not a great year. By March I had had it. I told Jo Ann I was quitting and going home. She took me in her room, sat me down, and gave me a good lecture. So I stayed, but only because she convinced me it couldn't get any worse.

That summer I got divorced, and I was so grateful I had a job and so grateful to her for convincing me to stay. The assistant principal moved on, I got my own room, and things did get better.

That was the beginning of a friendship that spanned sixteen years. She was there for me every step of the rocky, bumpy road that has been my life. I'm not complaining. I have a great life, but like everyone else...I have had those times...

Six years ago she came looking for me. She came to my house first, but I wasn't home. Acting
on a hunch, and knowing me as well as she did, she found me at Berkley Bob's having coffee with our other dear friend, Wanda.

"I have breast cancer," she said.

If the road has been bumpy for me, those bumps pale in comparison to what she endured for the
next six years. There was a time we thought she would be okay. We laughed until we cried over the silliest things. We all met for coffee, went junkin together, pretended we really were going to do the crafts we bought all those books for.

Then, it was back with a vengeance. And she started giving me things. A book I said I liked; a Hummel figurine she bought for 25 cents at a yard sale; a big pewter thimble shot glass that says "Just a Thimble Full," a necklace she made just for me (she made all the West Point buddies one), and finally...on a day she could barely walk, she insisted on giving me a beautiful set of old mixing bowls because she knew I loved them. When I protested about her giving me things she would say, "I'm downsizing."

I knew she was going to die. The cancer had ravaged her body. She was so strong, so resolute. She didn't take pain medication until at the very end. She died with dignity.

But I wasn't ready to lose her. Selfishly I wanted her here to ease me over the bumps. We never talked about her dying. Maybe she had that conversation with Pat Tucker or Wanda Hyatt, but not with me. Once I sent her an email telling her how much she meant to me and how much I loved her. She never responded and she never mentioned it. But she loved me and I loved her. We talked about life and fun things...but never about death.

Life is full of changes. This one is painful. I need my friend. I miss her and I would give anything for one last, long, funny, serious talk. I love you Jo Ann. Thank you.