WordSisters

Tag: wordsisters

  • My Daughter, My Inspiration

    My Daughter, My Inspiration

    At 3 years old, Crystel couldn’t speak. She couldn’t say her name. The only one who understood her was her brother, Juan Jose’. He’d interpret for us.

    One time, Jody, Juan Jose’ and I were at a campground, and each mom had reached it by a different path. Each mom thought the other had Crystel. Juan Jose’ said it the best when we found Crystel eye to eye with a white double-bearded goat. “Cissy, I so scared my heart go out then come back in when I see you.”

    The goat chewing her cud, the little girl waiting for her family to find her.

    It was tasked with her daily homework. A folder filled with pictures. I pulled a photo out, she named it, and we would go through the stack. Except, I gave up. I didn’t understand a word she was saying. I couldn’t comprehend how she would get any better.

    It was her speech therapist that said, “Crystel’s the hardest worker I have. She always does her best. Are you doing her homework?”

    That evening we started again. With Crystel in my lap, I pointed to a picture of fire.

    “Ire,” Crystel said.

    I moved my finger to a firefighter.

    “Ireighter.”

    To a shark’s fin.

    “in.”

    Of course, Crystel did get better, and she graduated from speech therapy by the time she was eight years old. She no longer allowed Juan Jose’ to speak for her.

    She had a voice. She had determination. She had fortitude.

    I became a believer. Crystel would be able to do anything that she ever wanted to do because she would not quit. Even when her mom did.

    Crystel and Juan Jose’ are sophomores in high school. They start losing electronic privileges if their grades drop below a B-. Crystel is a straight A student. It doesn’t come easy for her. She studies nightly.

    She will not let me or anyone else determine her life. She will not allow herself to be mediocre.

    Her passions catch fire.

    On several occasions, she has created convincing PowerPoint presentations to persuade Jody and me. I had no plan to travel to Japan. Her presentation included facts, photos, and vibrated with excitement. We will now be traveling there for the summer 2020 Olympics. We have a map of Japan in our kitchen. We have a Japan vacation fund.

    On our latest trip to Guatemala, it was at her insistence that we kayaked to a waterfront house for sale in Guatemala on the shores of Lake Atitlan. Walking around the property, I realized that Guatemala had truly entered our hearts. Our every other year visits would no longer be just about visiting the birth families. Crystel was right. Anything was possible.

    She ran the Wood Lake half marathon this summer with a friend. 13.1 miles. 8.22 min a mile. She had not yet turned 16.

    Crystel has recently become a vegan. If it was anyone else, I might think that this is a phase she is going through. Because it is her, I understand that she has embraced the lifestyle. She prepares and cooks her own food. I find this impressive, but it doesn’t surprise me.

    Crystel meets storms head on. Her face to the wind. She is living. She has a hunger to be and to do.

    Her current life plan is to be a Futurist. A Futurist is a person who studies the future and makes predictions based on current trends.

    Based on current trends, she will be just fine.

     

     

     

     

     

     

  • Climbing Mountains

    Climbing Mountains

    My morning stretch.

    My leg was stretched in the roll cradle when the Technical Manager came through the warehouse door.

    “No problem here” he said. Not even questioning why a Human Resources Manager would be in the warehouse with her leg raised in the air.

    He kept walking until he heard my tussling. “Do you need help?”

    “Yeah, my foot is stuck.”

    He walked back to me. Smiled. Lifted my foot from where it had gotten wedged into the crook of the iron.

    “No problem here,” he said and continued on.

    The next day, I was in the warehouse swinging my leg to reach an upright when the Maintenance Manager came by.

    “Beth, don’t hurt yourself,” he said.

    “You guys must have moved these uprights. I could reach them last week.” He chuckled.

    I’m aging. I’ll be 60 years old next month. I still want to climb mountains.

    My afternoon stretch.

    I’m finding that I’m not as limber or flexible, and it’s harder to keep the weight off. At my last physical, I told the doctor that even though I’m biking every day, my weight is exactly the same.

    “It doesn’t matter how much you bike,” she said. “At your age it’s about what you eat. You have to eat less.”

    I paused for a moment. “Well, that’s not going to happen,” I said. “I like to eat.”

    She finished injecting cortisone in my right knee. I have osteoarthritis in both knees. It is a degenerative “wear-and-tear” type of arthritis that occurs most often in people 50 years of age and older.

    When I hear of someone who has had a knee replaced, my attention sharpens.

    I’m afraid of not being able to climb mountains.

    On the summit of the Upper Mayan Trail with our guide Alex.

    I’m a 2nd Dan Tae Kwon Do Black Belt but haven’t been able to attend classes for a couple of years. I’ve run at least 7 marathons but haven’t run at all for at least a year. I believe I should do the things I can do. I can bike. I can stretch. I can climb mountains …. sometimes.

    My goal on our Guatemala trip this June was to hike the Upper Mayan Trail, hiking from the shores of Lake Atilan to Solola. Close to 3000 ft. elevation gain in 4 miles. A very steep trail, with beautiful scenery, and several encounters with local Mayan carrying firewood on their back or working in the fields.

    Jody and Crystel led the way, turning from time, encouraging me on. Juan Jose’ and our guide Alex were there with a helping hand. What a gift to have my son reach his hand out to take mine. And, a guide, our friend, who is such a wonderful role model for our children.

    I’m aging. There is beauty and grace in that.

    Note: the featured image is Juan Jose’, Alex, and Crystel standing on the precipice of the Upper Mayan Trail.

     

     

  • I Really Did It This Time

    I Really Did It This Time

    They came and built things.

    I didn’t think it would happen.

    I thought I had it all under control.

    I figured, I’d just pull the cross-country captains aside plus my own two children. It would be a business-like meeting. Just the facts. No feelings.

    Jody and I regularly open our house to Juan Jose’ and Crystel’s friends and their sport teams. Our swimming pool is ideal for an ‘end of a run’ swim.

    What we don’t want is any dunking or kids pushing one another into the pool. When things get reckless, people can get hurt.

    The solution was simple. Bring the captains and my own kids together, and spell out their responsibility.

    However, things didn’t go as planned.

    They came and jumped off the diving board.

    The coach called on me to speak.

    I scanned the crowd. Adults, teen and middle school cross-country runners, younger brothers and sisters. All of us gathered for a barbecue at Augsburg Park in Richfield.

    Crystel told me later that she knew it was going to happen.

    Jody, Juan Jose’ and Crystel have a detector for my overwhelming emotions. Usually it will be Juan that says, “You’re crying, aren’t you?”

    Any matter-of-factness I had ran out of the park when I eyeballed their friends and teammates, and I contemplated just for a moment losing any one of them to a drowning.

    I paused a number of times during my ‘welcome to our home but I don’t want to go to a funeral’ speech. Even so I ended up weeping.

    My tears are a gift from Juan Jose’ and Crystel. They broke me apart with love when they came into my life. I haven’t been able to put myself together since.

    They came and relaxed.

    I really did it this time, I thought. No one will want to go to that lady’s house. She’ll start crying.

    “Don’t worry about my crying,” I said. “Juan Jose’ and Crystel know I cry all the time.”

    The group laughed.

    Thing is, I do cry all the time. What a gift.

    I just don’t intend to share it so openly.

    We will just have to see if the teams come around.