My 8th Grader

We now have an 8th grader living under our roof. I have been warned about those teenage years, especially with girls.

I actually remember my own years as a teenager ~ Bless my dear mom! I was really a pretty good girl. REALLY! Since school was a very large part of my social life, I never missed school. (I was only absent one day in all 4 years of high school and that was when Dad took me to Louisville, KY for a Medicine Show gig.) I was never guilty of sneaking out at night ~ I needed my sleep. I didn't have the chance to run with wild boys...because they never asked me! I wouldn't have gone, I don't think. I had a great respect for my parents and a desire "to please" not only them, but my grandparents and teachers. Please know that I truly was NOT perfect by no means. The last spanking I received was when I was in high school (probably 16 or so). Because of my smart mouth, Mom had me lie across my bed and she spanked me with a belt. Believe you me, I was a more cautious with my words and tone at which they were spoken!

Mom's sage words that were drilled into my head whenever I left the house were, "Have fun. Be good. Hurry home and remember who you are representing....your family and your Lord." Another thing she 'used' on me was, "If you are in doubt about whether or not you should 'do' something....would you 'do it' if I was sitting there with you or even more so, if Jesus was sitting right there?" I must confess, just plain old 'fear' kept me from getting in trouble many times.

The older I get and the older Maggie gets, I find that those very same words that Mom told me are now coming out of my mouth. Hopefully, Maggie will heed that same advice and will appreciate the 'disciplined heritage' she has inherited. I hope I live long enough to hear her pass on the same ideals that I am trying to etch into her head and heart to her own children.

BTW ~ I often wonder how come I didn't look like her at 13? Or 23? Or 33........

A year has passed...

Today marks the first anniversary of the death of Ernest Randolph "Doc" McConnell...my Dad. I have experienced all of the "firsts" without him...his first birthday, Thanksgiving, my birthday, Christmas, Father's Day, etc.

I cooked a big supper and joining us were: Guerry, Dad's wife, and Cecelia ~ my first cousin/Dad's brother Tom's daughter. While Rosy washed the dishes, Guerry, Cecelia and I finally read the numerous notes that were written in remembrance of him at the National Storytelling Festival last October in Jonesborough. Guerry and I have made two or three attempts at starting to read them, but never could bring ourselves to do so. I suppose the timing just wasn't right. It was refreshing to read what others wrote.

Rosy and Maggie joined us to watch a video clip of Dad performing his medicine show. We all laughed at his antics and expertise as he charmed the audience with his humor and foolishness.

I can't believe that it has been a whole year since his death. I feel certain he's still telling his tall tales, lies and yarns in that heavenly venue with his biggest fan on the front row listening....Mom.

I also like to think that God gives him two 'thumbs-up' for telling "whoppers" in the land of eternal truth! Yep, I think it's perfectly fine, don't you?!

NOTE: The above picture was taken during Jonesborough Days circa 1975. Dad, his brother ~ Cecil/aka "Steamer" and me.

# 31

Tomorrow is the first day of my 31st year in education. Goodness gracious, where have the years gone? In the last several years, I have had the pleasure of having kids of former students in my classroom and as of late, I'm having grandchildren of my former elementary and high school classmates. Could I really be this old? Will I look "old" to the new charges that come my way this year? Will they tell the people who ask them, "Who is your teacher?" that she is Mrs. Gillenwater and she has white hair and has trouble with her old knees?

Today at Target, I saw a student that I had last year in class. He was/is one of my favorite kids. He came running over to me and gave me a great big hug. I talked with him and his parents about him going to first grade and they said how he has already talked about leaving Mrs. Gillenwater and how much he is going to miss me. I told him that he had better not love his first grade teacher more than he loves me. He assured me that wouldn't happen. Before we parted, he said, "I smell Kindergarten." We all looked at each other and inquired what Kindergarten smelled like. He replied, "I don't know, but it smells good."

Maybe, just maybe, these new recruits will be my last as I hope to retire after this year--the good Lord willing and our board negotiating team will agree to proposed articles such as assistance with health insurance after retirement. Two teachers that started teaching the same day I did, decided that this past year would be their last and were able to retire due to the good benefits of early retirement offered by the county system. I have to admit, I'm jealous! They don't have to get up and head out in the morning for a week long in-service and the first day of school next Monday.

In the morning, as I dust off the box labeled "Beginning of School", it may be my last time I do so. There is a twinge of sadness. I've hugged, loved, disciplined, comforted, instructed, patted, encouraged, laughed with, cried over, hundreds of Kindergarten and middle school-aged students. Some have gone to be productive members of society such as getting doctorate degrees in physics, becoming nurses, teachers, moms, dads, etc. when on the other hand, some made some not-so-wise choices and have had to spend time in prison. No matter their outcome, at one time they were precious children who were in my care and on my roll. Hopefully, they will remember something positive about our time together in the classroom and maybe they, too, will remember that it not only smelled good, but it was all good.