Operation Sixteen Candles

 

It was only a matter of time. 

We knew the risks but also yearned for some normalcy for our children. So, we put on our best smiles, sent the kids off and hoped for the best. Everything seemed to be going fine and then, just like that, multiple high school activities put on hold thanks to covid-19.

Here were my daughter's choices: get a nose swab or quarantine for 14 days. She may or may not have been exposed to the virus while at a recent rehearsal. But what happens when your 16th birthday and party fall during that 14-day period? You sigh and prepare to scramble once again for a Plan B or even C - something we've all been doing since March. 

I'm getting good at scrambling but not so good I don't feel guilt. Guilt that I let my better judgement get away from me. Guilt that I let the party planning get this far. Guilt that, once again, I cannot protect her from disappointment. 

With my oldest son it was easy.  A few months ago, he was a graduating senior. Plan Bs were coming together before our very eyes in the final weeks of school. Everything prior to that had been cancelled: the musical, concerts, senior breakfast. But he was ok with (yes, I'll say it) the new normal. He didn't want all the hoopla attached to those rite of passage events. He was fine with scaled down, low key and under the radar. 

My daughter on the other hand is like me - wants what has been expected. Wants the pomp and circumstance of it all. Wants to be the center of the universe on her 16th birthday. You only turn 16 once, right? She wanted the party - wanted to be surrounded by a few of her friends. (You know, still mindful of social distance.) Wanted, in this crazy world we live in, to put aside all the madness and just be a kid without all the worries that come with it right now -masks, online learning and lack of stability. 

I am unable to deliver her one simple wish.

Looking back, I don't really remember my 16th birthday.  My mom tells me all I wanted to do was spend the day at Kennywood. Although I don't remember this day of August fun 30 years ago,  I do remember what was waiting for me when I came home. I remember going up to my bedroom and seeing a new television - already set up and turned on. Up to this point, I did not have a television in my room. This was a game changer. This electronic device allowed me to watch MTV whenever I wanted especially on Sunday nights when the alternative music show 120 Minutes was on past midnight!

Like me, my daughter will not be getting her license right at 16 so, there has to be something special to overshadow that fact. I've been going a little overboard furnishing her new bedroom - new sheets here, a desk there - oh wait, a new comforter. I just feel so helpless that buying things is all I can do.

When my grandmother turned 16, she had already dropped out of school to get a cleaning job to help support her family. This was during the depression. She gave her paycheck to her father, wishing she could buy the things a teenage girl longs for - stockings, makeup, clothes. Once in a while, after a day of cleaning, she would come home with things of little value, like knee-high stockings, which she would put on in secret so her parents wouldn't see, to allow her a few secret moments to feel - like a kid. 

I don't know what to do at this point. It is hard for me because in the grand scheme of things, a missed party isn't all that big of a deal. (Especially when you hear my grandmother's story!) But if we were talking about turning 15 or 17 it wouldn't even be an issue. If in 30 years, all my daughter remembers about this milestone birthday is how happy she was with the new stuff she got for her bedroom, I guess that isn't all that bad. Heck, I associate my 16th birthday with a new television. 

But I am not one to back down from a challenge. Covid, you may have me backed in a corner but I will not let you win. I'll do my best to let my girl have a special day no matter what it takes - I've learned from the best and now it's time to put my planning skills to the test. Operation Sixteen Candles - Let's go!

Nora's 16th birthday 9/18/14

The Feeling is Virtual

Well, it's over. 

Summer's timer has dinged and the fun is almost done.

My three kids are now all back at school and boy does that look different. They are all learning from home. My oldest son is taking college classes in the basement. My daughter and youngest son are doing their school work from the dining room and upstairs bedroom. This is unlike any beginning of a new school year we've experienced - ever. 

Yes, there is an adjustment all the way around. But for a moment, I would like to talk about the teachers. Now that I work in a school, I see what has been happening. Things that have been happening behind the scenes for weeks, if not months. The only analogy I can think of is a magician who pulls the tablecloth off of a table and all the dishes are left in their places. But for teachers, the tablecloth was yanked away and everything they ever knew went with it - and they were left to pick up the pieces. 

I guess that analogy can pretty much be used for any of us right now - parents, students, school administrators just trying to do their best to keep everyone safe and wishing that we could just go back to the way things were. I think we all realize how far off we are from that possibility.

But back to the teachers, many of them are having to prepare recorded lessons or even attempt to deliver live lessons online. The majority of them are using technology they knew existed but didn't have to really concern themselves with. Now they are trying to appear like they have taught like this for years. Yes, that magician would be so helpful right now. 

We parents have not been privy to this intimate view of our children's education and for educators, it is scary to greatly expand your audience. But from what I've seen so far, these people have upped their game and plan to see this year through giving it their best shot. This year may look different but the dedication to students remains the same. 

I was pushed out of my comfort zone this past April when I had to teach Sunday school lessons using Zoom. When you do a lesson on Zoom you have to be fully prepared. Prepared for technology issues, prepared to talk because people on the other end are reluctant to participate, prepared to watch and hear yourself - which sometimes is hard since we are our own worst critics - prepared for criticism on how we can do better.

Some school districts were criticized at the end of the 2019-2020 school year because there wasn't more offered to the students. More interaction, more materials, more support. But keep in mind, we were all thrown into the deep end of the swimming pool and we all were trying to stay afloat. 

Not all school districts are created equal and some already had technology in the hands of their students that they could use. Others had to get and distribute what devices they could and supplies across the country were limited because of the great demand.

But now, everyone is in agreement things have to be better in education all across the board. And from what I've seen in the days I've been back to work, everyone is taking their responsibility very seriously. There is too much at stake. Parents are taking classes on how to use the technology. Students are Facetiming friends to make sure they have the correct links to their Meet times and assignments. Everyone is taking it one day at a time because trying to plan ahead is now a job reserved exclusively for the man upstairs. 

So please, if you see a teacher, know a teacher, love a teacher - tell them they are appreciated and doing a great job. Let's help them help our kids.

Braddock's Defeat

Today, July 9th, marks the 260th anniversary of the Battle of the Monongahela (Braddock's Defeat). A statue of a young George Washington stands guard near the Braddock Carnegie Library where he earned quite the reputation for being brave as one of only a few officers to escape unharmed, despite bullet holes in his uniform.

It will be a quiet day in Braddock. For many, the day will pass without a thought of what happened in this region 260 years ago. Before 2011, only a few historic markers existed that alluded to Braddock's Defeat. But how could something so significant be one of the area's best kept secrets?

"It's not a local problem. It's a western Pennsylvania problem," explains Robert Messner, who opened Braddock's Battlefield History Center four years ago. "This area was so rich in natural resources, in industry, that we never had to think about tourism as an industry."

Messner said part of his motivation to open the center was knowing that people were being turned away when they would inquire about any existing battle sites.

"I thought for a community that is flat on its tail because of the decline of the basic steel industry turning away potential tourism, what a waste."

Tourism is the number two industry in the state but Messner says most of the dollars are made in the eastern section of the state near Gettysburg and Hershey. Messner says what our half of Pennsylvania has to offer, between Fort Necessity, Fort Pitt, Braddock's Field and Bushy Run, is a historical gold mine.

"We've got the father of our country running around here as a young man and he's making mistakes all over the place in his earlier years before this battle [of Monongahela.]"

This battle was a turning point for Officer Washington who decided to give a military career one last chance before resigning to a life of farming. He heard that the British general Edward Braddock was coming to throw the French out of Fort Duquesne and thought he could learn something from this well respected figurehead. Braddock wanted Washington on his side due to his valuable knowledge of the terrain, so he made Washington a member of his personal staff to resolve any rank issues between British and colonial troops.

"This was his last major engagement that Washington fights in before he shows up 20 years later in Philadelphia at the Continental Congress wearing his French and Indian War uniform from this battle campaigning to lead the Continental Army in the American Revolution."

Messner says Washington was chosen largely due to the reputation he built during Braddock's Defeat when he pleaded with Braddock to allow the troops to fire from cover like their opponents. This battle was considered an Indian victory and those fighting under Braddock, who survived, were disgraced - everyone except Washington, who many historians say was the indispensable person in American history.

"If it had not been for what happened here, if he had not come on the expedition, if he had not been so brave here, and if people did not spread that truth, God knows what would have happened."

Photo courtesy of Braddock's Battlefield History Center

How The Life Goes On

I have seen enough nature shows to know occasionally things go bad.

You've probably seen a few too. For example, when the orca whale slides onshore and grabs a cute, unassuming baby leopard seal. Or when the lion grabs an impala who strayed a bit too far from the pack.

Nature has been a little rough closer to home as well.  We typically get to experience the joys of spring when a robin's nest in our cherry tree is filled with fuzzy babies. Last year, one fell out of the nest, before it was ready to fly, and it did not survive. It was pathetic to see and hard to explain to an 8-year-old who was staring at a lifeless bird.

Fast forward to this past Thursday. We were about to begin our quest to tackle the day when the now nine-year-old ran into the house with an urgent message.

"There is a dead rabbit in our yard!"

Here's the backstory. We have been enthralled these past couple of weeks by our own little nature show involving a couple of baby bunnies. The little guys were usually not far from their mom's watchful eye and boy are they ever cute. Hopping around and really getting some good air as their little legs lift off of the ground. It is almost as if they have a little trampoline underneath them.

We picked up on their hiding spots; one beside our shed and the other in what looks like a poison ivy patch to the right of our house.  It was worrisome when a day would go by and we wouldn't see them but then the next day we would notice a small tuft of white and a sweet little tail bouncing about.

When alerted by my son's news my first response was, "It's not one of the babies is it?" But even though they were spared, the revelation that it was the mother was probably even a worse outcome. How would the little ones survive?

Everything I had to do that morning took a backseat because, you see, the story is a little more complicated than just a dead animal in the yard. The dead animal was tangled in my son's baseball backstop net. The net system is on loan and the cost to replace it - around $100. It appears the rabbit was probably being chased in the night and didn't see the netting. Her head got caught and she couldn't get free. She died from strangulation.

My first call was to animal control. I was worried about the babies and wanted to know if someone would have to come pick them up to ensure their survival. Luckily, because we have seen them out in the grass eating, the man I spoke with said they could fend for themselves. During the conversation, I did not reveal how the mother had died. I felt guilty.

My next couple calls were to men I knew that could help me remove the lifeless mass. My husband was at work and I did not want him coming home after a long day to deal with carcass removal especially at the start of his birthday weekend. But my options were limited and I wasn't having much luck. I wanted to be strong and "man up" but this was going to be unlike anything I've done before. Heck, I can't even remove mice when they get caught in a trap. How was I supposed to take care of an adult rabbit?

But then that "Bishop Determination" I've inherited kicked in and there was no other option but to get the job done. The job took all the courage a girl could muster and time, lots and lots of time. I had to prepare myself both physically and mentally for the task at hand. It would have been so easy just to make one cut of the net to release the lifeless rabbit but knowing what that would cost, I was reluctant to do it. 

I basically used my gloved hands to free the rabbit's head with the care and delicateness of a surgeon. It was the ears that gave me trouble, I'm sure you can understand, but once I had tucked them through the net, the rest was easy. Obviously, my children made themselves scarce for this procedure with my youngest expressing concern every couple of minutes, "Mom, please don't do this. You don't have to do this!"

The relief I felt when I slid the rabbit out from the net triggered an instant emotional response. My little guy put his arms around me and we cried together. He was sad because he felt responsible for the mama bunny's death. My tears were a combination of winning a victory for not needing a man to rescue me and secondly for having the death net in our yard in the first place.

This morning, as I waited for my coffee to brew, I looked out of my kitchen window. I saw the brother bunnies chasing each other and hopping around. I felt a sense of relief knowing they are doing ok and that they have each other.  According to bunnylady.com, rabbits don't have emotions the way people do but when they are bouncing with energy it means they are happy. And speaking as a mom, that is all you can ask for your kids.

Brother bunny 1 - photo credit Nolan Keleschenyi

Not Ready For This

The day is here. 

The day I have dreaded for 17 years. Can you believe it? No? Well, put yourself in my shoes. In a few short hours I may have a licensed teen driver in my house.

Now many have you have been through this before. You are probably shaking your head in solidarity. But I am on the precipice of sheer madness and there is nothing I can do to stop it. 

Luckily, for me, this journey took a lot longer than it should have. My son got his driver's permit 19 months ago. We've had to renew it once. But let's face it. He really wasn't ready. His father and I weren't really ready. Our journey unfolded at our own snail-like pace. 

There was much talk between my son and his sister last summer about getting his license so he could drive them both to school for his senior year. There was also much talk about stopping at Dunkin' Donuts every day and getting frappatinos and mochalottos, which neither of them had the budget for. All the "talk" came mostly from the younger member of the duo. But that ship came and went due mostly to lack of motivation on his part and lack of sheer interest on my part. 

Here is the reality. My son is smart; super smart, but lacks some common sense. I've seen him get in the car and wonder why it isn't moving. Yes, he forgot the keys. I have seen my son run through a stop sign and then say, "Oh, I didn't see that." (But hey, haven't we all done that?)

But I've also seen him flawlessly pull into a parking spot I never would have attempted. I've seen him merge perfectly when I didn't think he had checked his mirrors. He has assured me - "Mom, I've got this."

At this point I cannot hold him back any longer. I have to encourage my little bird to fly and the best way to fly is to start up the car and hit the gas. I know from my experience I wasn't a good driver at first. In fact, I failed my first driver's test because I didn't use my turn signals once. But in my defense, the test was in a parking lot. Why did I need to signal in an empty parking lot? (Can you tell I am still bitter?)

Heck, I couldn't even parallel park until months after I had my license when a friend's father saw me struggling one day and patiently walked me through it. Without Mr. Jones, I would not be the amazing parallel princess I am today. 

So, looking back on experience, I know I need to let go. As luck would have it, when we went online to schedule the test, the first available opening, surprisingly, was today. I skipped past that date and went right to the next available option - July 23 and of course ol' hawk eyes spots the 2nd and says, "What about that day?" 

And I say, "It's booked."

"No, no," he says, "See, there is a spot for 3:45 p.m." (You cannot put anything past this kid except maybe a stop sign.)

I say, "Do you want to do it that soon?"

"YES!" He says, emphatically.

So here we are. I know this is the right thing to do and the next step we must take. Due to the new covid-19 driving text regulations, I'll be the licensed driver in the car with him while the examiner, who will remain outside of the vehicle, administers the test. I was there when the kid came into the world. It is only fitting I'll be there when the open road becomes his. 

Practice makes perfect and yes, we'll start off slow - driving to work, driving to the post office, driving me to the Fine Wine and Spirits outlet. Hopefully, with experience his confidence will grow and my anxiety level will decrease. I know I'll never stop worrying but maybe once I can send him out to get the groceries, I'll look at things in a different light. 

Until then, keep me in your thoughts. Who knows, Independence Day might have a little more meaning this year for one almost 18-year-old.  Yet, I hold this truth to be self-evident, I was not cut out for this. 

Nick, age 7 months, in my Dad's work truck.

Answering The Call

I got some exciting news a few weeks ago.

A friend of mine is going to be ordained a priest next month. This is exciting news because we weren't quite sure when it was going to happen. We thought we knew, back before there was a state shut down and our country was stopped in its tracks by Covid-19; it was originally supposed to be this month.

Had life gone on as usual, he probably would be a priest right now but that was not how things played out. He missed out on all of the traditional events held for students wrapping up their studies at the seminary - they were all cancelled. Not to be rescheduled.

I got the ordination news via text. There has been a delay in any concrete information as to when his ordination would take place. He is originally from an area that was particularly hard hit by the coronavirus and things are just starting to open up in his hometown. I had just spoken with him a few days prior and there was nothing to report on the big event. He and his family has been eagerly awaiting news so they could begin planning the next new chapter of their lives.

 You may have noticed I mentioned his family. He is married and has two children under six. (Byzantine Catholic priests are now allowed to be married as long as they do so before they are ordained.) All the time he has been going to school here in Pittsburgh, he has been juggling his studies along with his husband/father roles.

I know how hard it is to manage all of the above. When I went back to school to get my meteorology certification, I was married, working part-time, had a one-year-old and was living out of state. By the time I graduated from the three-year online program, I was expecting my second child the following month. I know how hard it is to go back to school as an adult and I have sincere admiration for those who take on the task.

As a child, my family did not have any "priest" friends. We did not have our pastor over for dinner and my mom did not call him on the phone and have long chats. As I became more involved at my current parish, I have had the honor to befriend some really good people who have chosen the most selfless vocation there is - a shepherd to the sheep, helping administer to those on a journey of faith. These people are only human, people like you and me, who just happen to have answered a heavenly call.

It has been enlightening, from where I'm sitting, to have had this experience with this particular friend. I have befriended seminarians in the past but this is different. This has been the experience of getting to know this man and his family with the understanding that what is about to happen will forever change the course of their lives. Knowing they will soon move away and he will eventually have his own parish to oversee and it will take the love and support of his family and friends to help him deal with the highs and lows of leading a congregation.

 It has been a tough time for Catholics over the years. Scandal after scandal has rocked the faithful to their core - some to the point of losing their faith. It makes one wonder why someone would even consider stepping in to a seat that is already hot. But, as is the case for any profession, there are good people and bad people. Luckily, there are still individuals not afraid to put themselves out there as stewards to a wounded flock - stewards hoping to lead by example and do what they can to help the faithful stay the course.

My friend is one of the good people and has been there for me whenever I needed help with our church's Sunday school program - willing to help at a moment's notice.  Willing to talk when a listening ear was needed. Willing to help me at times my faith was wavering; speaking with the understanding he doesn't have all the answers. He knows there may not always be a black and white solution to the problems we face but if we address them prayerfully and with an open heart our faith will see us through.

I have been honored to have been part of this man's journey. I have been blessed to get to know his supportive wife, who also made every effort to assist our congregation where needed, and their adorable children. It is sad to see them go but I know they will be embraced with loving arms by the next group of faithful who will be graced with their presence.

Due to the social restrictions in place, my family is not able to be present for the upcoming ordination service, but the event will be streamed online. There is nothing that has strengthened my faith more than to have this family in my life - to see them live out their calling in such a patient and loving way. I know the goal of faithfulness is attainable when our church is infused with special people whose calling goes beyond their own home and their purpose transcends an Earthly explanation.

An Alternate Ending

And just like that, it was all over.

It has been an emotional roller coaster these last couple of months- wondering what would happen with my son's high school graduation in light of Covid-19. There were meetings, emails, and letters sent out trying to involve all the stakeholders to see what option would be best.

Many families did not want to have the proposed parking lot ceremony - they wanted the traditional stadium graduation which was always supposed to be final stop on these kids' high school journey. The social distancing guidelines would not allow this on the originally scheduled day, or even throughout most of the summer,  so it was decided to do what could be done on the day set aside nearly one year ago.

It was uncertain back in May just what this kind of ceremony would look like. We attended a parking lot event on a much smaller scale for National Honor Society a few weeks back, but it was a windy day that rendered the microphone useless and visibility was at a minimum for all the participants. I did not have high hopes once we tripled the number of people who would be participating.

One of the biggest aspects of an event such as graduation is taking photos. I knew this would also be limited, but once I found out my son would be one of the speakers (as co-salutatorian) I needed to know what my options were to capture the moment. The day before the event, I was told that I would need to stay in my car because roaming around the parking lot would not be encouraged.

I did not anticipate the atmosphere we would encounter once we arrived at the school.

Imagine hundreds of kids, decked out in their caps and gowns, on their graduation day, in an outdoor setting with their classmates they had not seen in two months. It was more like a tailgate party for a concert at Heinz Field. It made me anxious, happy and confused all at the same time. I kept replaying in my head the conversation, the day before, with a school security officer - then I looked at my son, sitting in the back of our van and I said, "Let's go. It's your graduation day and we are getting photos with your friends."

For the most part, after the graduation photo shoot, we remained in our van. But during my son's speech and when his name was called - the moment required getting out and moving to get a closer view and to be able to hear more clearly. With a large number of people out of their cars, I didn't think I would be the one to get the first slap on the wrist for not social distancing.

It was a night to remember for sure. So many things etched in my memory. The decorated cars, the smiling kids, the Class of 2020 masks, the hugs...Yes, I grabbed moms I had journeyed with for the past 13 years and gave them a hug. I cried so many tears - happy tears. Tears for the gift of this special night which almost was cancelled due to weather concerns. I cried tears of relief that this chapter had a happy ending and so many people made it a priority to see it through and give the kids the recognition they deserved.

But you know what the best part of it all was? The ending. The plan was for the cars to exit the school grounds for a parade leading to the traffic light on Route 30. As families departed, to the sounds of School's Out by Alice Cooper, we were met by people- people who lined the streets to send these kiddos off with the fanfare of a Super Bowl championship extravaganza. The first face we saw was Principal Sean Gildea, who welcomed our family with open arms at the start of our journey in the district 13 years ago.

Teachers, friends, firefighters, police officers, people who just happened to live on the parade route greeted these graduates with shouts of congratulations and enthusiastic waves as they began their next chapter post high school. I don't know who enjoyed the moment more - my son or his father and I.

As I write this, the tears well up again. I am so thankful for this beautiful memory. Yes, the ending was not what we expected but in many ways it was better. Like the storm that precedes the rainbow, the colors outshine the darkness. And for me and my 2020 graduate, those colors will last a lifetime.

EA 2020 graduates Madison Spahr and Nick.