Becoming the Noun

My parents are two of the hardest working people I know. My mom was a public high school English teacher for over 30 years. My dad was a CPA after a period of time co-owning a grain elevator with my uncle and also teaching. I have fond memories of going to work with both of my parents. There was a time when they were both teaching adult education. I remember spending time in their classrooms writing on the chalkboards, reading books, watching the television which had cable (which we did not have then), and even ordering pizza from the Domino’s that was right next door. In my mom’s early days at Hillsdale High School, she was a class advisor. This meant that I had the chance to go with her as she helped to build floats for homecoming and admire the older teenagers who seemed so terribly grown up and impressive to me when I was seven and eight. What I remember most was loving the environment. There was something fun about watching my parents in their element

I grew up very close to my maternal Grandmother, Edith. She taught history, English and French before she retired. Her energy was a quiet force. She taught me about commitment and hard work. Even in her retirement, she was constantly on the go committing to the public library, AAUW, the Historical Society, writing books tracing our genealogy, and her real passion: spending time with her family, particularly her grandchildren. She taught me that a smile, even in the hardest times, is the very best choice. She taught me that the women in our family had “stones at the base of our spines” and that there was not an obstacle that you could put in front of us that we could not overcome. One of her passions was chocolate. I remember vividly when the research came out about the positive health benefits of chocolate. She was over the moon. She had a saying that “your dessert tube is always open.” In my early teen years, I learned to love baking. Many Saturday mornings,