Tell Me Something Good

Tell me something good, is a strategy that our principal uses every few months to get the staff talking.

My something good has been joining a water aerobics class. 

Fun fact, I don’t know how to swim! 

I had been looking for a fun way to increase my activity and then I remembered that a lady in the dog group that I used to meet-up when I had Dollar told me about taking classes at the community pool.  I do love the water so I decided to give it a try.  I hoped that swimming wasn’t a requirement for taking the exercise class and I signed up.

The first night of class (they start a 7PM), I was anxious about several things. One, leaving my house after being secluded since before Covid isolation. Seems like I had developed a mild case of agoraphobia. Two, I was afraid of the new experience: Would I be able to keep up with the rest of the class? Would my classmates be nice? Would I drown?

As the first class began, I soon was enjoying myself. I do love the water.  Even though I wasn’t properly dressed. I wore the wrong type of bathing suit and no water shoes. Since, I have learned that water shoes help with balancing yourself in the water in addition to adding sole support. I have also learned that not all bathing suits are equal, you need a one piece that is modest and keeps all your bits covered during all the movements. Most recently, I have invested on a swim parka- a must to keep you warm and dry as you get out of the pool and drive home.

The first class was a giant comedy of errors as everything that could go wrong did.  On a positive note, I did bring a lot of laughs to the regulars as I kept drowning and having issues with my erroneously chosen wardrobe.  Yet, I didn’t let my mistakes keep me from eventually getting the hang of the fun sport. Going into my fourth week, I think that I have discovered my workout routine. I look forward to getting in the water after a stressful day at work, away from screens and from life’s demands. It’s my “me time” which is becoming as special as my weekend coffee mornings in my naturally beautiful backyard.

The class is 99 percent female, there’s only one man in the class which I like.  There’s only me and another girl that are the young blood, the rest are silver mavens. Most of them are regulars too, so they have been taking the class for awhile and they are super encouraging.  I am a little skeptical about doing this in the winter months, but the ladies tell me that I will be ok. “It’s the getting in and out of the pool that will be hard,” they all chime in.

For many taking a class is no big whoopie, but for me it’s a huge pat on my back.  Most of my life I struggled doing new things because my anxiety and fear of the unknown was so great.  Thus, when I do things that are absolutely new to me and I venture out on my own - I truly amaze myself.  My chest puffs with pride and my self-confidence increases.       

The Last Few Months...

At the end of the last school year in early mid-May one of my students died of an accidental drug overdose.  She was discharged from a drug rehab center a few weeks early to be able to participate in our school’s graduation activities and ceremony.  The last time I saw her was at Disney for Grad Nite, she brought donuts for all the students that attended the event.  She looked good but, I could still see some level of fatigue perhaps sadness in her countenance.  That night was full of activity and I never had a moment to hug her to welcome her back, but I thought I will have graduation to celebrate her and to give that embrace…

After Grad Nite, I was assigned to chaperone a student trip to our school’s Colorado Ranch for two weeks.  On the morning that I was leaving my brother almost died from a drug overdose.  Luckily, my mom went into his room to wake him up when she noticed that he wasn’t getting up for work. We found him still breathing, but we couldn’t wake him up.  I called the ambulance and the paramedics came, pumped his stomach and told us it was an opiate overdose and took him to the hospital still in serious condition… I didn’t know whether to get on the flight with my students or hop on the ambulance with my brother. My parents encouraged me to go on the trip, and I was so angry with my brother because he had been hospitalized twice in this last year and he still couldn’t stay clean. I was tired of playing the hero, of rescuing him and I wanted him to know when he woke up that I was done.  The first week of the trip was extremely hard because they kept him in the hospital because they couldn’t control his blood pressure and then he got a blood infection.  I would call home once a day when I got my two-hour break from my students to check up on him and every day things didn’t get better.

During the first week of the trip while I was trying to hold it together with all the chaos happening at home, we had a student who bullied, hit and made threats about shooting all his classmates. So, a male chaperone had to leave to take this student back home to California.  That was my breaking point, in my mind as soon as the male chaperone was back, I was going to request to be sent home to be with my family.  Yet, that day things improved with my brother and he was given a release date.  So, I pulled myself together and completed the chaperone gig.

Upon my return to work, after the Colorado Trip, I was given the news that my student had died. At that moment everything in me collapsed. We were able to bring my brother home from the hospital, he was given another opportunity to get healthy.  However, for my student’s parents and sibling – they were not able to revive their daughter, to wake her up from a fentanyl lace pill she took to calm her anxiety. The similarities were just too much and I collapsed in grief, in pain over what drugs do to families, to parents, to siblings! I cried for her, for my brother and for me. I went into this dark depression and I just couldn’t see hope.  After learning about my student’s death, I had to get ready to have Senior Day and celebrate with all my graduates. So, I had to compose myself. Then a few days later I had to attend our graduation ceremony and not give a hug to my kid. I couldn’t even acknowledge she was dead because our principal didn’t allow me to do anything in memory of her as the principal thought any remembrance would ruin graduation for the rest of the students. I was in mourning and not allowed to mourn.

This week a new student I just got came to school inebriated. I had to call the ambulance as she got so sick that she was foaming at the mouth and I thought she was going to die. Luckily, when the paramedics made it to the school, they told me that my student was just extremely drunk.  They ended up taking her and hopefully she will get the help she needs…

Some days I feel so burned out. Other days I feel like I can’t get away from drugs poisoning those I love. I spoke at lengths with the priest on the cruise about all of this and I liked something he said when he prayed over me. He thanked God for using my brokenness, my scars to reach the hurt souls I work with and those in my own family I care for. Pain when consumed alone is devastatingly tragic, but when redeemed by God it can be utilize for good.  It can then transform the world.

This week my student who became my pen pal for six months at the juvenile detention center came back to school. I have him as my student again and there’s celebration in that.         

Catholic Cruising Again

I just returned from a cruise to Alaska…  A close friend told me that she had met a gal who was organizing her first Catholic Singles Cruise and I always wanted to see Alaska so I told her that I would join the group.  From my initial involvement in the trip, I didn’t think much about it being a singles thing, I thought more as continuing my love of travel in the security of a group.  Though, the thought of the sacraments being available on the daily did warm my heart!  While this cruise wasn’t as spiritual as the cruises that I have been on with Father Morrow (where there's daily Mass, Adoration, Rosary, Spiritual Direction, Reconciliation) I still returned full of blessings.

Now, I don’t know if it’s in God’s plan for me to meet a husband while traveling, but I do know that every time I join one of these cruises I always meet such great friends! I was able to get close with a couple single ladies, who like me are living out our single vocations true to our Catholic faith.  I was able to share some of the things that I am struggling with in my walk with the Lord, some of my recent trials and tribulations and just what life is like living as a single woman no longer in the prime of my youth.  I am at that age where I am aging out of the young adult events and entering a group of Catholics that is not super represented in our Church. That single Catholics group that are not old, but not so young either (smile).

Yet, as a Father Leo said on the first day of Mass on the ship, “you are on a cruise, no one can feel sad.”  God, has blessed me with the ability to travel and just the fact that I am able to visit all these new-to-me places is enough benediction.  Yet, God never disappoints in providing people for me to share the experience with.  Though the isolation of COVID has been over for sometime now, the effects of it for me are still so present.  I haven’t been able to get myself back connected with a spiritual community. Other than Mass, I have no connection to other Catholics.  As an introvert, COVID made me a bit of a recluse and now thinking of joining groups seems like so much effort.  Yet, this cruise made me realize how much I am missing because God didn’t create us to be alone, He created us for relationship.

I loved being around other Catholics and having conversations that dug deep beyond the superficial.  I enjoyed going to fancy dinners with a couple of ladies and finding comfort in their beliefs which matched mine.  It’s always so therapeutically to find people that validate our faith journey, that understand the sacrifice of living a Catholic life in these modern times.  People you don’t have to explain why you are the caretaker of your family and why you don’t give up on the lost sheep… On this trip, it was also extremely inspiring to share our single journey and though we are content, professional women we do hope to find a partner in crime to join and share our happy lives.  It was edifying to share a meal, a drink, even a dance or two… 

It was also nice to look at myself, ten years later (after my first cruise) and see a mature Catholic reflection.  I also spent a lot of time on my own, exploring Alaska joining the typical excursions. During these times outside in mostly coastal rainforest I was able to connect with God through nature.  Everyday, I was inundated by God's beauty, the majesty of His creation and it was humbling to realize that this is my life!  That I get to explore His pristine creation and when I am surrounded by such vast, natural beauty it's so easy to see God, to be in His presence - in complete awe.  There were moments where I stopped myself from crying because after recently living some of the most difficult months of my life, I found peace.  Whether in the Tongass, gardens, Glacier Bay or on an Alaskan Huskies Sled Ride - I knew that God was with me, and when God is with me, who can be against me?  The Lord is by my side and I will not be afraid!        

I'll try to write at least once a month.

Have A Little Faith

I have been seeing friends a little more often and the same conversation we have been having is that many of us are still homebodies and are having a difficult time adjusting to life after COVID.  Our social activity doesn’t match many of our peers who seem to be out and about all the time.  What I did manage to attend at the end of the year was the annual Christmas YCP Party.  One of my close friends motivated me to go and I think God wanted me there!  The family that usually opens their home for our party had a tragedy a few weeks before our celebration, they lost their son in a tragic accident.  Yet, instead of cancelling the event the couple decided that they more than ever wanted their home full of young people and for attendees to share stories of their son.

After an hour of socializing it is customary for the hosts to stop the party to bless the food and also to give a short speech to motivate attendees to join YCP. –

The end of the year was quite challenging for me and my family and as the holidays approached my usual Christmas spirit was lacking.  I am usually the one who decorates the house, who puts up the lights, the nativities and the tree.  Yet, this year I only managed to decorate the outside of the house with lights and only because Dad did most of the work.  Due to a family crisis, I had to seek therapy and increase my medication because for the first time in over fifteen years my anxiety was thru the roof and I think I had a bit of depression too.

So, when the party came around I wasn’t in the mood for it, but I pushed myself. During the speech, the hosts spoke of their recent loss, they spoke of their son and what he meant to them and how looking at all the young people gathered who he had mingled with gave them joy.  They asked us to seek them and share moments we shared with their son, but what most impressed me was that even through such an unforeseen loss the husband and wife spoke of their hope in God.  I looked at them, clearly brokenhearted and still praising God and finding so much comfort in their Catholic faith.  Their hope was contagious and I thought of my own crisis and I finally saw God’s hope.

I didn’t go home and decorate my entire house- but I realized that in my anxious despair I became blinded to the reason for the season.  The incarnation of that babe that came to save us all.  I felt momentary guilt for focusing on things that added to the darkness of my soul instead of finding contentment in God becoming man and the implications of that action.  I needed people who were hurting more than me to remind me to never loose hope.  I drove home that night, light, knowing that with time the challenges I was facing were going to pass.  While, it was still the first year that no inside decorations were on display – it was the first year that we visited extended family to lean on them and being one big family was better than all the decorations in the world.  Moral of the story; “one, there are always people hurting more than me and still find hope; two, community/family helps a ton!”