My Legacy

The other morning I woke up and heard the sad news of Sen. Kennedy's passing. It was early in the morning and only the local news was on. Unfortunately, the only tie Sen. Kennedy had with our area was through Mary Jo Kopechne, the young woman killed in Chappaquiddick in 1964. For a few minutes, Sen. Kennedy was remembered for the death of this young woman and not for all the things he accomplished in the Senate. Since that one newscast, both the local and national news have touted his lifetime of service to his country.

Which got me thinking about my legacy. I will probably never hold a public office. Most people outside of my small group of friends will never hear of me or know what I have done. I will not be mourned for days by a nation with flags at half staff and 24-hour coverage of my funeral. So what is my legacy? For what will I be remembered?

Hopefully, this is a question with which we all struggle. We think of this question at times when making major decisions such as whether or not we should get the second house or save the money for our children. But rarely does this question come up when we are making daily decisions. How we live day-to-day doesn't seem like part of our legacy. I think it is the biggest part of our legacy though. I hope to leave behind financial security for my children and a tidy list of assets for them to enjoy. But what I really want to them to have from me after I have died is a strong sense of who they are, what is important to them and an appreciation for the special people in their lives. To do that, they need to see me do that. For me to do that, I need to live each day that way. Therefore, remembering my legacy when making daily decisions is very important.

I don't live with a morbid attitude. I do not agonize over my bequest day and night. But I remember that what I do and how I act will affect my children. They are my legacy.

Wal-Mart and the Civil War

A historic battle took place near Locust Grove, Virginia. General Lee and General Grant met for the first time on a battlefield called the Wilderness. By the end of the three day campaign, nearly 30,000 men were dead, wounded, captured or missing. Although the battle ended in a draw, it was a significant event in the Civil War. General Lee's army never again had the offensive upper hand. This battle doesn't have the recognition of the Battle at Gettysburg, but it is no less important.

Recently, the Orange County Board of Supervisors voted 4 - 1 to allow Wal-Mart a special use permit to build a super center near the battle site. The area is already zoned for commercial use. Proponents of the measure cite the tax revenue, jobs and cheap shopping as reasons to allow Wal-Mart to build. Opponents of the measure say that the area Wal-Mart wants to build on is considered part of the battlefield, even if it isn't protected. The sanctity of the area should be preserved.

I have to agree with the opponents. This area, close to Fredricksburg and another major Civil War battle site, is ground on which our ancestors fought to preserve our freedom. It is hallowed ground on which men died. Once the first shovel full of dirt is taken from the ground, the memory of those who fought and died there will go with it. And for what? So that tourists to the area have a familiar haven? So that locals can have one-stop shopping for inexpensive food, clothing and household wares?

We are becoming more materialistic. Our lives are becoming defined by what we have, not who we are. We consume what we need, what we want and what others tell us we need and want. Wal-Mart, in my eyes, is the standard bearer for our materialism. By allowing them to build on sacred ground, we give away an essential part of who we are and from where we have come for the ability to get more stuff. At some point, we need to become aware of the destructive force of our materialistic ways and the need to preserve the irreplaceable.

Confronting Our Pasts

Over the weekend, I was able to spend time with a close friend. The kids were gone, the husbands were doing their thing. We were able to sit and talk in an open, frank way, without fear of interruption. As often happens, the conversation turned to our pasts. We talked of former significant others, loves that had been lost, regrets that we have.

As I listened to my friend's stories and thought about my past, I realized that I can control my response to my past. I can not change what has happened to me, although, in my fantasies, sometimes I make completely different decisions. Instead of feeling sorry for some of the decisions that I made, I accept that fact that each decision lead me to being the person who I am today. I like who that person is so I am choosing to be grateful for all the decisions that I have made, both good and not so good.

But sometimes people don't really like the person they are. That doesn't mean that they need to regret their decisions. That means they need to learn to love themselves. No matter how we feel about ourselves, we can not change the past. We can only change our response to it. But accepting the idea that we are wonderful people, just they way we are, will go a long way to making us feel better about what has happened to us.

The Lockerbie Bomber and Compassion Part 2

If you read Part 1 yesterday, you know already that I prefer being compassionate to harboring ill will. You might agree with me, you might not. But I am not alone in my feelings. I know of two examples of people who feel like-minded that I would like to share.

The first is the Amish community that suffered a school shooting in October, 2006. A man held young Amish girls hostage in a one-room school room in Lancaster County, PA. Although he had planned to carry out more terrible things, this man killed five girls before taking his own life. Anyone who watches the news probably remembers this event. Shortly after, funds were set up to help the victims and their families. The Amish also set up a fund for the killer's family. Within hours of this tragedy, the grandfather of one of the young girls who was killed was asking for forgiveness towards the killer. This message was repeated time and time again, not only in words but with actions. For instance, some of the Amish neighbors of the killer's family went to them and supported them in their grief.

It would be easy to dismiss this example of compassion due to the religious nature of the Amish. So I found another example on the New York Times website on August 20th. In Parkersburg, IA, Mark Becker shot his former football coach Ed Thomas. The Becker and Thomas families had been close for many years. They attended church together. The Beckers, both the father and three sons, played football under Mr. Thomas' coaching. They lived in a small town together. But in the first public statement by the Thomas' after the shooting, they called for compassion for the Becker family, knowing that they were suffering as well. And again, they weren't just words. The Thomas family repeatedly reached out to the Beckers in the weeks that followed.

In Wikipedia's article on the Amish school shootings, there is a quote from Marie Roberts, the wife of the shooter, who wrote a letter to her Amish neighbors. She says "Your love for our family has helped to provide the healing we so desperately need. Gifts you've given have touched our hearts in a way no words can describe. Your compassion has reached beyond our family, beyond our community, and is changing our world, and for this we sincerely thank you." And I am thankful that there are examples of compassion for me to follow when I stumble towards ill will. I believe that there were times when the families of the victims privately expressed anger towards the shooters. But they did not let their anger overcome them and define their actions. They continually made a conscious effort to remain compassionate. By following their examples, and that of others who have embraced compassion, I too am able to change the world in which I live.

The Lockerbie Bomber and Compassion

I have heard the news report that the Lockerbie bomber was going free. I have read the New York Times account of his hero's homecoming. I have listened to the Scottish government's reason for releasing him and the reasons given by people who lost loved ones why he should never be released. And I have some questions.

What if this man was not guilty of the bombing? Not only has he always proclaimed innocence, but there is evidence suggesting that he is not the Lockerbie bomber. Shouldn't he be shown compassion if he truly is innocent? What if he was the bomber? Isn't it possible that people can truly regret their actions, especially towards the end of life? Why would the press show the pictures of the homecoming knowing that they were inflammatory pictures? What if this dying man just wanted to go home instead of being paraded in front of a bunch of people? What if he is just a pawn of the Libyan leader, Moammar Gadhafi? Is there any connection between the petroleum company BP and what just occurred?

In the midst of all these questions, I do know a few things for certain.

First, we will never know exactly what happened and why. Whenever there is a conflict, there is always more to it than what is seen. I can know what I am told, but I can never know if this convicted killer carried out these bombings. What if he did what he did, or at least took the fall for it, to protect someone he loves? And I know that I will never know the truth just by listening to the press. For all sorts of reasons, the press is biased.

Second, I have the ability to control my response to a situation and that is all. I can choose to be angry at the convicted bomber for what he is accused of doing. I can choose to be compassionate to him and the victims. I can choose to ignore the whole situation as being out of my hands. (Anyone who knows me knows that won't happen.) I try to choose compassion. I have learned that you reap compassion if you sow compassion. Others are more understanding to me if I try to be more understanding. Also, when I hold on to ill will, I myself fall victim to that ill will. I don't sleep as well. I am harsher towards those I love. Activities that I enjoy are no longer enjoyable. Why would I want to feel that way, particularly when I might be making myself sick over misinformation?

In my own life, I have suffered and had to find compassion for the person I hold responsible. Sometimes it isn't easy. Sometimes, it is a day to day process. But by working at it day to day, I have come to appreciate my life more and to live it more fully. And I don't have to worry that I might have the wrong answers to all the questions I have.

The World is Loud

I've had to face the reality that I am losing my hearing. I knew it was coming. I have the same genetic hearing loss as my mother and I have known for years that I would lose mine. Recently, I went to the same audiologist as Mom, who recommended that I try a hearing aid. She let me borrow one for two weeks to see if I could adjust to wearing an aid. The past two weeks have taught me some things.

First, I have learned that the world is loud. Between people talking on their cell phones and radios constantly playing, everywhere is louder. My husband and I went to a ball game. Between the announcer, the constant music, the gentleman and his son behind us and the lady on her cell phone behind them, I was ready to wear ear muffs.

Second, I have learned that all this noise gets in the way of people hearing others. There is no better example than the town hall meetings regarding health care shown on the television. There is a lot of noise and not a lot of listening going on. I think people have gotten so used to the noise of their lives which make it hard to hear that, when they do have to listen, they forget how to.

I have to decide today if I want to continue wearing a hearing aid. I think I will because I'm interested in what others have to say and would like to hear them. I wish everyone felt that way.

The End of Summer

The alarm clock in my mind is starting to ring. A week from today is the first day of school. The summer is winding down. The lazy days of sleeping late and sitting around enjoying my morning coffee are quickly coming to an end. This time next week, I am going to be standing in front of a class of 7th graders introducing them to the wonderful world of careers.

But I am not ready to let the summer slip by. There are so many things that I wanted to do yet I haven't done. Every day, I think of more things that I should have done, like a picnic in the state park filled with boulders or exploring that historic site I stumbled across this spring. I haven't had funnel cake at a county fair yet. I hoped to get new glasses before the new school year. Where has the time gone?

Even as I lament, I realize that I have to remember a few things. First, each season offers its own pleasures. The relaxation I enjoy in the summer is replaced by the crunch of leaves in the fall, cuddling under an afghan with a good book and a fire in the winter and the spring blooms in May. Second, I should learn to let go of things. Holding on desperately to summer creates tension in my life and doesn't allow my to enjoy the gift of today. Finally, I have to ask myself if I really need to fit all this summer into this summer. Or have I somehow disrespected this summer by feeling that I have not yet done enough? Sometimes, what has been done, if thoroughly enjoyed, is just right and more would be too much.

Enjoy the rest of your summer and look forward to the pleasures of tomorrow.

Turning the Corner

The other day I was trying to turn onto a side street from a busy, main street. The car in front of me also was turning onto the same side street. That car, though, turned the corned then stopped in the middle of the street. I had no where to go and was stuck, half on the side street, half on the main street. Had it not been a Sunday and had there not been two churches on that block, I would have blown my horn and wished all sorts of evil upon the driver. As it was, I waited patiently for the driver to decide what he was going to do, then proceeded on my way.

Later, I realized that I had experienced a metaphor for life that day. Many people turn a corner in their lives then stop. They make a monumental decision to change an aspect of their lives. But once they make that decision, they get stuck. Proceeding in a new direction is difficult, but going back is unacceptable. What they need is someone to encourage them down the new path, not with blowing horns and curses, but with patience and gentle prodding.

My hope for you is that there will always be someone to encourage you on all the paths you choose to take.

Math The Way It Should Be Taught