Spring Break 2020

This spring break is like none other in my lifetime. The weekend before spring break officially began, the college where I work decided to suspend face-to-face classes in light of the coronavirus (COVID-19) pandemic sweeping the globe. Even though I knew it was coming, it is a devastating development. I teach both online and face-to-face, and not only do I prefer face-to-face, but it is also better for those students who choose it. On top of that, we had to cancel all college events, including graduation. Moreover, Americans have been advised to remain home as much as possible, to practice “social distancing,” and to wash our hands often. So, schools have closed, social events have been postponed or cancelled, bars and nightclubs have closed, many restaurants have closed, even some dental offices have closed, our community pool has closed, and now beach parking and/or some beaches have been closed. This has all happened in China first, then Europe, and now here. The world shut down.

As humans, we are programmed with fight or flight, and I have been “fighting” in terms of preparing for survival with trips to Publix and Target as well as online ordering. I haven’t taken an ungodly amount of food or necessities like cold medication and toilet paper (like some have fought to do); however, I have prepared for a two-month shut down. I pray that it doesn’t come, but because I have been listening to primary sources from China, Italy, Spain, and France, I want to be prepared for the worst. Because of being hyper aware right now, every day feels like a week. And, I am dealing with additional grief because, with all of this “fighting,” I want so much to be able to call my mom and talk to her about it, to hear her say that I’ll be okay. Or, I want to have the option to go to her house and shelter in place where she would be well stocked from living on the family farm. As it is, I cannot imagine being home alone for weeks, let alone months. To not see others in person, to not be blessed with hugs and smiles. If it comes to that, how will I manage it?!

While Americans are focused on the pandemic on all social media rather than politics and other typical topics, people are still on opposing sides: those who believe it’s all just a hype or hoax or conspiracy versus those who are preparing for Armageddon and obeying the new regulations that come every day, every hour. And those two sides are still butting heads: those who mock the other side for preparing versus those who rail at anyone not following the new guidelines.

This is all unprecedented and such a historic time in our country and world. All of this—the headlines about what is happening in the rest of the world, now in the United States, as well as preparing for the pandemic and seeing our country still so divided—has been stressful and traumatic and exhausting. 

The exchange students are being sent back home, and in fact, all over the world, people are being recalled to their country of origin. Everything is at a standstill as everyone is going home. Because my Italian student had not yet visited Sebastian Inlet, we went there yesterday, taking a short time in the midst of this chaos for some spring break fun and fresh air, though we made sure to obey the mandates to maintain distance from others and wash our hands after touching something. Per normal, I took photos and documented the occasion, sharing it on Facebook, and I sensed some judgment or chastisement from some FB friends. Perhaps the comments were not meant that way, but this is an added stressor after an attempt to decompress, unwind, relax. And the comments were perhaps not even meant for me, but instead for those spring break party goers who congregated at the beach like sardines in a tin can, ruining it for all of us. After three days of crowded beaches in Brevard County, our beach parking is being shut down. According to the news, by tomorrow morning, we will not be able to park at the beaches.

Therefore, today, I went back to the beach. While there were too many people there, at least they were all staying in small groups away from each other. I stayed far away from others, but I was able to take a long walk on the beach. It could be my last walk at the beach for the foreseeable future. As I breathed in the salty air and heard the call of the seagulls, I felt the weight of the past few weeks fall away. I turned my mind to gratitude. Deprivation is something that brings focus and clarity, and right now, I still have much to be grateful for. I’m grateful for the sunshine that touches my face and skin. I’m grateful for the roar of the ocean waves as they kiss the shore. I’m grateful for my health and the security of being able to work online and still have money to pay bills. I’m grateful for my daughters and their health. I’m grateful for my family and friends and their health and thankful that we will be able to stay in touch through smartphones and social media. I appreciate the humorous pandemic posts and memes that have helped me find laughter this week, and I appreciate that social media can be a source of connection and comfort during this time. I am blessed and privileged to be able to prepare and stock up, and I’m thankful for my cats who are in this with me. I’m grateful for the acts of kindness that I have witnessed and read about this week. I’m grateful for nature and its calming effect. And, I’m grateful for God and my faith in Him.   

A CHANGED HEART: Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. aka Dad aka Gaffer

“You can love someone so much...

But you can never love people as much

as you can miss them.” ~John Green

          Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. was born on March 1, 1948 in Port Hueneme, California. An only child and navy brat, Newton was an international traveler, growing up in exotic locations around the world such as Malta, Japan, Florida, Virginia, and Rhode Island. He was a creative, talented, and intelligent man who could play anything on the piano after hearing it just once.

In the early 70s, he met and married Barbara Ann Cunningham. Always wanting a big family, they soon had four kids, and they moved from place to place in search of work and a place to belong. For a time, they settled in Kansas City where they attended Baptist Temple. 

A round of layoffs at TWA airline in the 70s warranted a move back to Newton’s roots in Cabool, Missouri where he moved his growing family to a white house on a hill of the family farm next to his parent’s white house, both houses built by former generations of Crawfords. For over 150 years, Crawfords have owned, lived, and worked that land.

After a series of jobs as a laborer and a brush with death due to a misdiagnosed case of Rocky Mountain spotted fever, he returned to college and pursued a degree in history at University of Missouri in Rolla. He earned a Master’s degree at Missouri State University and even completed all classes towards a doctorate at University of Missouri in Columbia. With ‘all but dissertation’ credentials, he was able to teach history at various colleges in the vicinity of his home, including Central Texas College, East Central College, Missouri State University in West Plains, and Columbia College. During his 20 plus years of teaching college students, he won Teacher of the Year Award five times.

He also took up running and walking. Tracking his miles daily, he often went a thousand miles a year. After years of running, he realized that he had run enough miles to circumnavigate the equator, and he threw a party to celebrate running Around the World.

Newton had the large family that he always wanted with ten children and twenty grandchildren. He often passed out sweet treats to his grandkids; he recently gave them each a silver dollar from his childhood collection.

With a smile, he recently announced, “I know I have arrived because I have three things: a country club membership, a Cadillac, and a lava lamp.” He was also proud of owning a bulldog that he named Winston after Churchhill, the leader of Great Britain during World War II.

I remember made-up stories of little girls in the woods with bears, dogpiles on daddy, quizzes on literature and art at the dinner table every evening at six o’clock sharp, lists of vocabulary words, detective or road movies, discussions on history and philosophy, fishing at the river or pond, hot summer days of bailing hay on the farm, readings of Eliot’s poetry—“the Rum Tug Tugger is a Curious Cat”— an eclectic array of songs floating through the house, daily pushups, the family singing “Do You Hear What I Hear” as Dad played the piano, and games of Bridge, Pitch, and Cribbage.

Art, music, literature. Literature, music, art. Words, words, words. Every day, all day, he soaked up words as he read at least three books a week—something religious, historical, and light (usually a mystery or detective story). Near his spot at the end of the hand carved, wooden table, Newton always kept an unabridged copy of Webster’s dictionary, and he was a genius with words, holding the title of having the largest working vocabulary. He also had an almost photographic memory.

Newton was both brilliant and eccentric. His traditional garb as a professor was a sports coat over a buttoned down dress shirt, pants, and cowboy boots. When home, he routinely wore shorts, t-shirts, and flip-flops with socks. Newton had an extensive collection of hats, including a fedora, Derby, The Panama, baseball cap, cowboy hat, and tweed or leather driving cap.

Newton lived a life of curiosity and inquiry, always studying, learning, exploring, and researching. His example taught his children to live with open minds and inquisitive spirits.

Near the end of his life, he showed his family the blessing of miracles through a changed heart that revealed a sensitive and sweet spirit, the power of forgiveness, the importance of healing relationships, and the significance of an intimate relationship with God.

As Peter Gabriel sings in “Biko,” “You can blow out a candle, but you can't blow out a fire. Once the flame begins to catch, the wind will blow it higher.” Newton Ulysses Crawford, Jr. has inspired two generations who will always love him and remember him and who will hand down the lessons and love to future generations.

A beloved father and grandfather, an honored professor, a blessed husband, he leaves a legacy of family, of love of literature, art, music, inquiry, and of justice and kindness towards fellow humans.

Letters written by Dad:

January 2001

Dear Children,

I simply must describe the view outside my window. Last night the ice storm brought peril and discomfort, but today’s visual delight actually overcompensates for any storm-related discomfiture…and fills me with a sense of ineffable wonder. Outside…like a barely-recalled print by Currier and Ives…a remarkably transcendent vision. The gray and overcast sky provides a stark contrast to the glistening and translucent wintry landscape. No cows; they are off seeking more basic pleasure in the river bottom…just birds foraging, near the feeder…jays, cardinals, and a pileated woodpecker…skipping about and eating their fill, full of natural gaiety…perhaps not knowing that God provides for the fowls of the air. But what transforms the vignette from an idyllic pastoral scene to an aesthetic marvel is the ice…the crystalline perfection of a bejeweled lattice hanging in front of my window…refracting the faint crepuscular light, and refining it into a landscape that would have defied Michelangelo. Tree branches, heavy laden with a thick coating of ice, bent unnaturally into different shapes, as if they were praying…the Chinese Elm outside my window lowering her branches for me…so I might see the vision of resplendent loveliness, the ground covered with a white carpet that on close inspection proves to be granular sleet…but from my perspective looks like an even field of snow rising in the distance and terminated by a line of trees, which provide a barren backdrop…but in the foreground, the trees around the house look like nature’s necklace, like diamond-coated skeletons frozen in mid-frame while they waltz. Just now, as twilight approaches, a single ray of sunlight penetrates the clouds and illuminates the scene, permeating it with a roseate glow…enlightening the primal wonder of nature, and sending a tendril of joy to my soul. As that last shaft of light descends from heaven, the ice explodes in dizzying resplendence, a cascade of colors beyond the spectrum. Words usually serve me well, but they are inadequate to describe this unutterably lovely tableau…absolutely beyond description and incomprehensibly beautiful…Truly Awesome…But I am reminded that there is one thing that rivals the staggering beauty of nature…only one thing…And that is the solitary human heart…pulsing out its rhythmic tattoo…beating steadily…for the ones it loves.

Dad

March 1, 2001

Dear Children

I think all of us tend to look back on our lives on our birthdays, and solitary reflection is good for the soul…summoning tendrils of sadness and regret…but bringing also joy and the quiet contentment that comes with remembrance of things past. On this day I feel doubly blessed to have lived and loved, and I wanted to share an epiphany that intruded forcibly…bringing the greatest birthday gift imaginable...an ineffable sense of wondrous awe. Hovering always at the periphery of conscious thought is the blessed awareness of the people I love, my fellow traveler through this vale of tears. But this morning, in pensive solitude…I felt you all as a powerful presence…as a celestial choir singing the Happy Birthday song…I truly felt you all as if physically present…our hearts thrumming a delicate refrain of indescribable loveliness. And I thought that there is great beauty in this imperfect world…the indescribably sublime wonders of nature…the unutterable beauty of song…Willie Nelson singing “Always on my Mind”…the baroque counterpoint of Bach…The Winged Victory of Samothrace standing in Majestic grace after 23 centuries…fragments of thought from other fellow travelers we have never met, snatches of incredible poetic utterance…”And the women come and go, Talking of Michelangelo”… fictional characters we feel we know, like Yossarion and stately, plump Buck Mulligan. But shining above all of this with effulgent brightness is the blessed assurance that Love is the one thing that makes life worthwhile. I think there is a certain amount of wisdom that comes naturally as we age and mature, and I think walking for a year in the shadow of darkness has helped me see a great light…like Saul on the road to Damascus…I see how we are transported by love to any earthly paradise beyond description…that love for intimates, affection for friends, and good will towards everybody…redeems our tenuous lives and makes our transient pilgrimage significant. For above all else, I am assured that our love is a pearl of great price, a solitary Rose blooming in a wasteland. I love you, Honey.

Dad

Heart of the Matter

The more I know, the less I understand
And all the things I thought I figured out, I have to learn again
I've been tryin' to get down to the Heart of the Matter
But my will gets weak
And my heart is so shattered
But I think it's about forgiveness

~ India Arie’s “The Heart of the Matter”

I’ve watched friend after friend (writing friends who are also writing teachers, adjuncts) thrown away by their educational institutions in callous and even shocking ways. I’ve felt blessed to continue receiving enough classes to make ends meet (by enough, I mean overloads, as many classes as I could find). Unfortunately, I’ve discovered this semester that my time of overflowing classes is at an end. I haven’t been thrown away like some stories I’ve heard, but I’ve been told in no uncertain terms from the various institutions that I work for that I can no longer have overloads, no matter what (partly because of lower enrollment and partly so that they don't have to pay adjuncts health insurance).

Even with working at more than one institution, this change necessitates changes in our living situation.

Another change in our life has overshadowed everything for the past year: Lexi going off to college. I haven’t written about it because I’m not ready, but the bottom line is this: I am thrilled for Lexi to have the opportunity to live and study in NYC. Yes, I realize that it is a normal and natural cycle of life for her to go off to college and move on with her life, and I support her and let her fly. However, it has changed everything for me and for Laina. It’s like someone came into our home and sucked out a huge chunk of life and energy and who we were. It’s one of the hardest things I’ve ever gone through, and we are still reeling from it and working to adjust.

Furthermore, I am rethinking my career path. I’ve taught for over twenty years and have loved it. I’ve taught people from all over the world and people of all ages. I have a high standard in my classroom, which means that I challenge my students to see, learn, and be more. Not all of them like that. In fact, nowadays most of them hate that.

Recent feedback from a student (printed with permission): “I am almost ashamed to admit that this exercise has left me feeling maudlin.  There are actual tears in my eyes.  I feel like I have wasted so much of my life with unimportant work and petty concerns when what I should have been doing is writing.  I am mortified by my own lack of discipline and I can only hope that it is not too late for me to accomplish something I can be proud to say I have done.  This semester has been the most fulfilling bit of education in my life, despite the fact that I already have an AA degree.  My attitude has always been never to let school get in the way of my education because ninety-nine percent of the drivel I sat through in college felt like remedial classes for high school.  I just seemed to reap more from independently reading on my own.  At first, I found this class daunting.  You want a lot of time and effort from your students, much more than most instructors at this institution.  I am sure that does not sit well with some of your pupils, but I appreciate it greatly.  Thank you.“

Words and students like this make teaching so worthwhile. The thought of giving up teaching breaks my heart; however, the whole climate has changed for educators, even for college instructors, and I have been looking for full-time work for five years now.

Moreover, my high standard also means tons of work for me. This semester alone I have read over one thousand pages of student essays and many more pages of simple assignments along the way (both online and on paper). All of that reading and helping students with their writing interferes with my own writing and creativity. This past month (while in NYC and away from the computer, away from a screen, for most of two weeks), I realized just how much strain my eyes and brain have been under. The crux: I am exhausted and need a real break while I reevaluate and decide where to go from here.

Furthermore, my dad has recently gone on hospice. Again, not something that I am ready to write about because I still have so much processing to do. But, I want to spend time with him and be there for family right now.

Coming to Florida was definitely the right thing five years ago. We have met so many amazing people here and been blessed in so many ways. We have healed and grown and learned so much here, and we have had so many incredible opportunities.

 

Florida 2014

Florida 2009

I am deeply grateful for the friendships and support that we have found here. Words cannot express how much you all mean to me and how you have blessed our hearts and lives with your kindness and love.

I’ve prayed for clarity and answers, and I’ve written hundreds of pages of journal entries the past few months as I sorted out options and the pros and cons of everything. As I processed it all, a few simple truths emerged.

Truth #1: Something has to change.

Truth #2: If I only do the same thing/ask for the same thing (piecing together a living), then I’ll just keep getting the same thing.

Truth #3: I am exhausted from piecing together a living.

Truth #4: We miss family.

I don’t have the answers yet, but I do have the beginnings of a plan. We are packing up this month and going to Missouri to be with my family for the holidays and a couple of months while I finish sorting things out. Transitions are hard, but this is still part of the whole divorce transition. I learned in Divorce Recovery that it generally takes five years after the divorce is officially final to be completely settled again. It’s been three years for me, and I know I’ve come a long way in those three years and am excited to see where the next couple of years take me.

Going through all of this (the divorce, the move away from everyone we knew, the fresh start, the longing for family, my dad’s illness and prognosis, etc.) has taught me so much about the kindness of others and the importance of forgiveness, of letting go. I’ll never forget words that my dad spoke to me over twenty years ago, when I was the one in college. He said, “When it comes down to it, all you’ve got it is your family.” Right now, that is the “heart of the matter,” and I am happy that Laina will have a chance, even for a few months, to be rooted in family, rooted on land that has been in our family for over a hundred years. Nothing can replace a foundation like that.

This is a bittersweet moment as we plan to leave friends who have become family here to go stay with family we have missed there. I don’t know where we will be by summer; we may settle into life in Missouri or return to life in Florida or even begin again some place new. Either way, I am ready for the next adventure.



Beauty, Truth, Love

     Yesterday I was wrapped in a work bubble, completely concentrating on finishing tasks for fall semester so that I could enter final grades and begin prep work for spring semester, so I didn’t learn about the Sandy Hook tragedy until late in the afternoon.  I didn’t finish working until late evening, though, so Facebook and the internet were the only sources available until this morning when I watched the news shows…and cried.  It is unbelievable, disturbing, and heartbreaking.

          After an hour, I turned the TV off because I do not want to be inundated by the media, especially with something so distressing.  I cannot even imagine the pain and horror of the parents and families who lost someone yesterday morning in this senseless tragedy.  I am so sorry. 

          I’ve heard people blame guns, while others blame the fact that God is not in schools like they want.  For this or other cruel acts, some place the blame on parents or the government or schools or technology or lack of morals or the media or violence in our culture.  I, too, want to look anywhere but in the mirror, yet Michael Jackson is right that we need to start with the “man in the mirror” and, as Gandhi said, “Be the change you want to see in the world.”

The truth is we are all to blame, and we are all innocent.  Yes, there are serious conversations we need to have about issues like gun control, the public school system, bullying, and the increase in violent acts like school shootings, especially one so horrendous as to be at an elementary school.

But right now, I want to focus on simple yet vastly important issues like how we communicate with ourselves and others, how we treat ourselves and our children, how we nourish and fuel our minds, bodies, and souls, and how we are all connected. 

Today, I am filled with questions.  What do we put into our minds, bodies, and souls every day?  Who are the five people we are around the most?  How do we treat those who cannot do anything to us, including our pets and children?  What do we believe about ourselves and each other?  What ambiance we have created in our homes, wherever we live?

The answers to these questions are so simple yet so complex, and they create the world we live in, the life we live.  It’s all about choice.  Every day, every moment, we choose what to watch, what to listen to, what to eat, who to hang out with, what to believe, what to do.  I know it’s not so simple as I struggle with the choices I make in each moment every day, yet I do know that it is also that simple as choice equals our lives.

We must start and continue with these conversations rather than simply going back to our daily lives, ignoring issues, or postponing action.  Today is the day to begin.  I read a poem about kindness today that blew me away.  Today is the day for kindness, compassion, giving, loving.  Today is the day to use words that build, choose thoughts and actions that encourage, and fuel yourself with images, people, words that foster beauty, truth, love. 

We must come together:  parents, teachers, artists, musicians, politicians, reporters, leaders, teenagers, children.  Together we can find answers, take action, and create authenticity of this human experience.

Nothing, nothing matters more than those we love.  I am reminded of words my dad once said, “When it comes down to it, all you’ve got is your family.”  So, today, if you are lucky enough to have the chance, spend quality time with those you love…listen to them, build them up, hug them, love them. 

Simple words, simple acts, simple choices.  But those simple things can make a difference, can mean everything.