The Median Sib

When I was talking with my mother this past weekend, I asked her how I got my nickname, Cabbie. I remember that both my father, mother and other family members have called me “Cabbie” off and on throughout my life. Today when I hugged my sister, Debi, bye, she called me Cabbie. To me, it’s a rather tender nickname. Mother explained that she was the one who came up with my nickname. She liked to add an “ie” to her children’s names as an affectionate form of their names…Terry, Joanie, Debi, Bethie. However, she didn’t like Carrie for me - so she changed it to Cabbie, and Cabbie it remained. No one outside of the family ever uses the nickname, but I really like it when the family uses it. Maybe it’s the sweet childhood memories that it evokes.

When my first granddaughter, Sweet Stuff, was born, I gave her a soft little stuffed animal - a dog. My daughter thought it was clever to give stuffed animals the names of whoever gave them. So the little dog became Cabbie. It turned out to be Sweet Stuff’s favorite toy. She couldn’t sleep unless she was holding Cabbie. As soon as I realized how attached she was to Cabbie, I got on eBay and found as many of the same little dogs as I could find. The company no longer made then, but there were collectors who still had them. I believe I ended up with six or seven of them. (Yes, I tend to go overboard - but I hated to think of Sweet Stuff EVER wanting one and not being able to have it!) Although the others dogs are fine occasionally as a poor substitute, she knows which one is the original Cabbie, and none of the others can replace it. At one point I thought that it would be nice to have my grandchildren call me Cabbie instead of Grandma Carol - but when I suggested it, Sweet Stuff looked at me like I was crazy. Cabbie was her treasured stuffed animal — not Grandma Carol! It’ll be funny to see her face the first time she hears someone in my family call me Cabbie.

In reading blogs this morning, I came across Jack Yoest’s about the difference between Conservative and Liberal views of Veterans Day. Interesting. Check it out.

If you haven’t read it already, please click here to read Ruth’s touching tribute to United States Veterans.

As I was surfing the Barnes & Noble webpage (unfortunately for my finances that’s something I do too often) I came across a book that is one of Oprah’s Book Club choices. It was A Million Little Pieces. Since I read so much children’s literature, I wanted to get something totally out of the field of reading and teacher education. I ordered it. It is a fascinating read. It is the story of the author’s stay in a rehab center as part of his journey from drug and alcohol addiction to sobriety. The beginning hooks the reader immediately. James Frey is 23 years old and awakens on an airplane with no ID. He is wanted in three states. He has a gaping hole in his cheek big enough to stick a finger through, he’s missing four teeth, he’s covered with spit, blood and vomit. He has no idea where the airplane is heading or how he got there. As he gets off the plane, he is met by his parents who take him to a drug rehab facility in Minnesota, and that’s where the journey begins.

A Million Little Pieces

I was walking a group of kindergarteners to my classroom this morning, and I remarked that one child in the group was absent today. One little girl replied, “I’m absent, too, but my mother wouldn’t let me stay home.”

I’m still smiling at her comment. However, it’s true. Sometimes we may be there in body, but for all intents and purposes, we are absent.

I wrote a few days ago about my mother’s surgery. She’s home from the hospital now and is improving each day, although the journey back to health isn’t pleasant.

In Joan’s blog, Daddy’s Roses, Joan included a poem she wrote about our mother. It is beautiful. On the chance that you haven’t checked it out yet, I hope you’ll go there and read it.

You can tell from reading this blog that I love finding quotes that express how I feel in a unique and/or succinct way.

I recently read a quote in Daddy’s Roses that spoke to me. It’s by Mark Twain, the source of many memorable quotes. I will take the liberty of copying from Joan’s blog in order to add that quote here: “Travel is fatal to prejudice, bigotry, and narrow-mindednes… charitable views of men and things cannot be acquired by vegetating in one little corner of the earth all one’s lifetime.”

Read Joan’s post that included the above quote. The quote is repeated in another post of hers that deals with blogging and how it is a way to expand our “travels.”

Check out another of Joan’s posts on quotes from Mark Twain and others.

Last night four of my very best friends came over to eat dinner with me. PawPaw was there along with Connie, Patti, and Dave. It was the first time PawPaw had the opportunity to meet and visit with the others. It was relaxing and enjoyable to be able to talk and laugh and gossip and tell jokes and catch up with what’s been going on in each others’ lives. Life can be difficult. Connie is on a leave of absence from her teaching job to care for her father who has cancer. She told me last night that the doctors have said her father only has a few months to live. She had to ask her brother to care for her father last night so she could be with us. Patti is struggling with life after Roger’s unexpected death a few weeks ago along with the poor health of both her mother and stepfather. Dave told us about his three trips to Mississippi to help with cleanup after Hurricane Katrina. Connie, Dave and I share the same unfortunate experience of having gone through a marriage and subsequent divorce within the past three years. We didn’t avoid talking about our troubles, but we didn’t dwell on them either. It was a light-hearted and fun evening. There’s nothing remarkable or newsworthy to report from the evening other than to thank God for good friends.

As I walked down the hall of my school Monday, I heard my name called out, “Ms. Carol!” I turned around, and there was Jason walking toward me, smiling from ear to ear. Jason is a third grader this year. Last year I worked with him all year on his reading, and he kept me up-to-date on his father, a soldier serving in Iraq. Excitedly and with a big grin on his face, he told me, “My dad is home, and he doesn’t have to go back!” We chatted briefly about the details of his father’s homecoming and the things he and his dad have done together since he got home. Jason’s face was aglow with excitement. As I walked on to my classroom, I thought about all the soldiers who returned home to Tennessee this past week. I am thankful for all the children whose fathers came home safely, and I pray for the children whose fathers didn’t.

As I finished writing the above post, I heard the familiar “You’ve got mail!” and I saw that I had an email from my nephew, Joshua, who is in the Army, stationed in Germany. His news is that

Josh and his bride at their wedding in August

his unit will be deployed to Iraq in June. Josh married in late August and he and his bride have been working to get her to Germany ever since. She finally got all the papers and clearances finished and flew out yesterday. Josh has planned a four-day honeymoon for them when she arrives.

God bless Josh and his bride. God bless and protect all our servicemen overseas. And God please help ALL Americans to work together for the good of all of us.

There is disturbing news from Tennessee today. A 15-year old student in a northeast Tennessee school opened fire and killed an assistant principal at his school and seriously wounded two other administrators. So far there is no word of what the student’s motives were. Had he gotten into trouble and been reprimanded by one of the administrators? Was he upset over poor grades?

Regardless of his reasoning, what would drive a 15-year old boy to want to kill someone else? This is the third time this year there has been violence in a Tennessee school. A school bus driver was killed by a student in March, and in August some boys were plotting to kill a teacher.

A couple weeks ago my school had a lock-down. It wasn’t a practice drill. I remember my feelings as I huddled in my classroom - out of sight of any windows, the doors locked, and my walkie-talkie on in order to hear any instructions or information that was available. There was uncertainty, fear of the unknown, and intense curiosity about what was going on. I was fortunate that it happened in between classes for me, and so I didn’t have any students in my room at the time. I knew it wasn’t a drill, but that was all I knew. After about 30 minutes we learned that the lock-down was the result of a prank phone call. One prank phone call caused several schools to be locked down and searched by police officers.

So today a 15-year old had something going on inside his head and he decided to shoot three administrators at his school. He ended the life of one, caused enormous physical and mental heartache in two others, made some children instantly fatherless, caused emotional turmoil and lifelong nightmares for many of his classmates, and he sealed his fate as a murderer. He will no doubt live out the rest of his life in either prisons or mental hospitals. It will be even more heartbreaking when we learn of what led to his actions. I would be willing to bet that all the death and destruction was the result of some insignificant incident - real or imagined - like a bad grade, too much homework or a consequence (Saturday School, suspension, etc.) that he considered unfair for something he had done.