Monthly Lunch

Our retired teacher group skipped a meeting in August so when we got together today we had lots to talk about and catch up on.  The most common thread of conversation was how much we missed not meeting in August and how we all look forward to our monthly get togethers.

The one thing we all have in common is that we are all retired women from Packemin H.S.  Packemin is large and many of us did not know each other or had barely said more than hello to one another in all the years we worked at the same address.  Our group includes former teachers, secretaries, school aides, lab assistants, and cafeteria workers.  In retirement our former jobs don't matter.

We started this group several years ago and have gone to many different places but we recently found our "home."  Ben's in Bay Terrace not only has good food and good service but lets us use a private room in the rear of the restaurant where we take advantage of lunch menu, and have the space to walk around, talk to everyone and stay as long as we want.

Any  female retiree's from Packemin are welcome to join us.

Saying Goodbye

Tuesday three siblings and their spouses came together to bury their father.  It was a sad day but the siblings knew their father had led a long happy and healthy life and it was his time to go.  Tuesday evening sibling one did not feel so good and went to the emergency room.  He never made it home.  The doctors found a clot on one of his lungs and that was the end.

Today, two siblings and their spouses came together again to bury their brother.  Lots of other family and friends came from near and far to offer hugs and support and to say goodbye to a man who loved life and was loved by all.  The man was only 63 years young.

I'm still wiping tears but am also smiling as I remember the good times I had with this guy, the hours we spent hiding out on a back porch when the party we were attending was too loud.  I remember the hugs and the laughter we shared throughout the years, the happiness when he told of his upcoming wedding,  and the joy of celebrating his 60th birthday.

Eleven of us left the cemetery and went together to a nearby dinner for lunch.  We sat and ate and talked about all the years we all had together and how, while not related by blood, we were family.  One friend, one who usually eats only what is good for him had a huge piece of chocolate cake.  He was celebrating his life and the knowledge that we all will go one day, some sooner than later.

This man went far too soon.  But, he didn't know his days were numbered and he did not suffer any pain.  I am glad he knew how much we all loved and respected him in his life and did not wait until it was too late to show how much we cared.

Friendships

I read a Facebook post by a young teacher several days ago about the friends she had made at work, friends that have become family.  I know what she means.  I have met, and stayed in contact with some of the best people ever at the schools Iin which I have worked.

My young Facebook buddy teaches at a small elementary school and has gotten to know everyone in the building.  This doesn't happen in a large school.  Often the friends you make are the ones you share a lunch or a prep period with.  There are so many you never even know are in the building.

When I retired, I started going out to lunch with several friends from the school.  These friends invited others and before anyone turned around our monthly lunch mailing is at 35 and still growing.  (Not everyone makes every lunch.)  The best part of the lunch is the opportunity we have all had to make new friends and to get to know people we only passed in the halls and nodded quick hellos to.

Our group meets once a month at a great little Greek place centrally located for most.  The owners are nice and really take good care of us.  We even get to use a separate little area in the back.

As the new year begins, I want to give thanks to the miracle that led me to enter and love the teaching profession and for now giving me a whole lot of new friends to love and spend time with.

(More snow pictures here, on Facebook)

Not A Word To Be Taken Lightly



I had some free time after my morning class so I stayed around to hang out with a former colleague.  As we sat and laughed, she said, "Let's not lose touch with each other."  I told her that would never happen.  We both agreed we are friends We care about each other and always will.  We'll never be more than a phone call away.

Driving home I thought of all the other "friends" I've had that either retired long ago or are still at work.  Most of the retired ones are long forgotten.  Except for a few, the ones still at work don't miss me at all.  We were never really friends, just people who worked in the same place, who bonded over the same issues.  I don't mind and I am sure they don't either. 

I'll reserve the word friend for those special people in my life.  The others will be friendly acquaintances.

Happy No One Listened

I didn't want a retirement party.  I was adamant.  I refused to discuss it with anyone.  In case anyone has any doubt about me, I can be quite stubborn. Besides, I figured except for the kids, no one will even miss me when I am gone.

My friends were just as adamant and were determined to give me a celebration.  Last night I thought I was going out to dinner with a few friends.  For once, I had even made the call and all the arrangements.  Imagine my surprise when I got to her house and the people closest to my heart appeared.  It didn't even register immediately that they were there for me.  I just assumed she invited more to dinner.

The speeches my friends made still have tears running down my eyes.  My good friend, J, the one who volunteered her house wrote the following, which I share, not to brag, but to pay tribute to the great friends I made at Packemin HS, people who boost my low self esteem and support me, people I know I will continue my friendship with for many years to come.



Rita

     Before I start Rita, your husband had nothing to do with this party.  He is completely innocent.

You were afraid to have a retirement party because no one would come.  Just the opposite everyone who was asked came. You have so many friends who love you as this turnout shows.

Let’s count your successes in life.

     l) You are married for over 30 years – to the same guy.  In this chaotic world that is a wonderful accomplishment.

     2)  You have two successful children.  I define successful children this way –independent and happy. Both fit these attributes.

        3)  You were wonderful daughter to your mother and are a fantastic help to your elderly father.                                                                                                                                      

         4) You are an unbelievable friend to so many people.  If it wasn’t for you, I would not be working at the college.  It is a job that keeps my mind going and stops me from spending money due to boredom.

          5) You were and are a fantastic teacher, despite what Suit and Mr. AP think..

You often said that you hate children.  When you were asked what you were doing on the following day your reply was “Oh the kids are coming to my house to study for the AP exam.”  I only wish all teachers hate kids that much.

  I’ll never forget one day after the ninth grade regents.  A student walked out of the regents exam, grabbed you, picked you up and said “You made me pass” That says a lot.

     Retirement is only a beginning of a new life.  You love teaching in the college now program and at night at the college.  This will continue. You will have more time to travel, visit your children, nag your husband, and travel.  You will have more time to go to Manhattan   buy fake pocketbooks and just walk around the city that you love so much. Everyone here wishes you a wonderful retirement.

Tribute To A Friend

One of my best teaching buddies at Packemin just celebrated a milestone birthday. Colleagues like her make the unbearable bearable. She reads this blog regularly and I post here to show her again how much I love her and value her friendship.


Her hubby's flowers--he has great taste in flowers as well as in women.

Pre dinner wine and snacks

The P Is Not Silent

(sorry for the little picture but I had to crop off all identifying marks)

I'm not usually a celebrity whore but today I met one who could turn me into one. He is, the one and only The P is Silent and his lovely wife, Mrs. Not Silent.

Mr. and Mrs. Not Silent live in Calgary and drove up to Banff to have dinner and beers with POd and Mr. POd. We had a wonderful Italian dinner in a little place where Mrs. Not Silent found her G-d son running. (A pleasant surprise for her.) We chatted on and on for hours and then adjourned to a nearby pub for some more beers and conversation. What was nice is that all four of us were extremely compatable. Son of Not Silent worried that his parents were meeting a serial killer as he has been warned for years about not meeting up with internet contacts. Mr. Not Silent, like yours truly likes to regularly send letters to the editors of the local newspapers and loves to bitch about the stupidity of the school systems.

Too bad Calgary and NYC are so far apart. This blogger and his wife are definitely people I would love to spend more time with. It is amazing how blogging has gotten me in touch with someone who thinks so similarly to me.

The Dinger Calls

The phone rings at 10:15 PM. We worry. We're old and our phone never rings that late unless something is wrong. I look at the caller ID and see my friend Dinger's name. I answer the phone and say "What's wrong with your graphing calculator?" Dinger laughs. He can't figure out how to get the y1 to show up so he can graph a linear regression. He spent 30 minutes working on it and then remembered his old friend POd and decided to stress no more.

Dinger and I have a long graphing calculator history. For a brilliant math guy, he is totally brain dead when it comes to any kind of technology. He has kept a whole group of us entertained for years with his graphing calculator (and computer) woes. A few years ago he called up because he couldn't get rid of his "dots". They were all over his screen and he thought his calculator had the measles. When my husband told him I was out of town, he got visibly upset. He called my cell phone so I could help him with his dots. Dinger carries his graphing calculator with him, whenever we are together. He even had it at his daughter's wedding. He always has some problem with it and counts on me to help him out. Dinger taught AP calculus the year I was on sabbatical and called me from his classroom when he could not figure something out.

To know Dinger is to love Dinger and everyone that has ever come in contact with him feels the same way about him. Many years ago, when all the math teachers in Queens met in the same place for staff development, I had a brilliant idea. I had everyone add a note to the evaluation form proclaiming Dinger, from XXXX High School, the calculator guru. These forms made it to the superintendent's office and then back to Dinger's AP, who knew the true man. Everyone had a good laugh at Dinger's expense (including Dinger--he has a great sense of humor.)

We were on the phone quite a while. It only took 20 seconds for the phone to ring after I had hung it up. It was Dinger again. He checked the time on our conversation and it was 32 minutes and 32 seconds. He had to call back to tell me how mathematical our call was.

I don't get to see Dinger and the rest of our gang as much as I would like. But when I do see him, or even speak to him, I remember that he is one of the people responsible for my love of teaching. He was always smiling and happy. He loved the kids and he loved teaching. He was never too busy to stay late or come in early to help a kid. He was always ready to pick up a basketball and shoot hoops in the school gym. Dinger is only a few years older than I am and was only teaching a few years before I started teaching, but I learned so much from him. All future generations of teachers need a Dinger of their own.

Hot Dog

(Little Hot Dog with his proud grandparents)
(Hot Dog Family lighting a candle)

One of the best things that has happened to me at Packemin HS was becoming friends with Hot Dog. I met Hot Dog in the teachers' cafeteria when I was in one of my foul moods, determined not to become friends with anyone new. Hot Dog however had already become friends with someone I liked so we began conversing and surprisingly enough, we hit it off right away. I found a soul mate in Hot Dog. She shared my cynicism and my distrust of the administration and she shared my love of teaching and my love of the children we both taught.

Hot Dog and I have been teaching together for a very long time. We've gone through some bad but mostly good times together. Today was the epitome of our relationship. Her son was Bar Mitzvahed.

I had tears in my eyes as I saw this little boy standing on the Bimah with his proud parents and grandparents. I remembered the difficult time she had conceiving and carrying. And, even before this, I remembered the difficult time she had convincing her now husband that he should follow his heart to be with her.

Little Hot Dog was did a fantastic job. He made everyone feel good. He led the service, he read from the Torah and did a mean Haftorah. He finished off with a sensational speech.

After the service, Little Hot Dog got to celebrate his achievements at a fantastic party. Surrounded by friends and family, he danced and ate and enjoyed himself tremendously. Everyone enjoyed themselves. Hot Dog has a ton of friends with personalities similar to her own and although some of us only met for the first time today we felt a bond.

I know I bitch and moan plenty about school but without Packemin, I would never have met the Dog family and I would not have been part of their lives. My life would be much poorer with them.

The Dinger

I never mention anyone by name on this blog, or use pictures of anyone I know, but I am going to make an exception for my friend Dinger, in honor of his 60th birthday which we all helped celebrate this weekend.

Dinger is physically 60 but mentally he is really just a big kid at heart, like we all are. He is warm and outgoing and loves family, friends and life itself. Everyone who knows the Dinger falls in love with him. When my mom died, and my dad was falling apart, Dinger (who only met him once before) knew how to bring a smile to his face.

Our group of friends came together in the math department of a big inner city high school. We had a miserable AP and some difficult kids and we bonded together to survive. But, we did more than survive. We grew into good teachers who gave and gave to our students. Dinger led the pack when it came to student-faculty basketball games and he portrayed a mean Diana Ross at our Faculty Frolics show. To this day, I cannot listen to "Stop, In the Name of Love" without seeing his face.

Dinger had a different way of doing things. Other teachers gave out pluses and checks. Dinger gave his classes B's. No one (including him) knew what they meant, but the kids loved them. Dinger and I team taught one year. I did the work and he sat in the back and worked on his new business. I did not care. Just being around him enriched my day.

All of us eventually left that first school. Some, like me, left to be full time mommies, for a while. Some transferred to become administrators and to get away from our miserable AP. Others left when the school was closed for reorganization. (In those days, teachers could actually get into other schools.) Dinger ended up in a Queens school, closer to home. I looked forward to Election Day Staff development when all Queens math teachers got together and we got to spend the day together. Dinger is a technophobe and no matter how much he tried, he could not get the hang of the graphing calculator. As a joke, a bunch of us wrote on the evaluation form how wonderful he was and how we wanted to go to a workshop run by him. The joke backfired when the Superintendant called his AP and he was asked what was going on. But, like always, Dinger took it in stride.

Dinger is retired from teaching, but not retired from life. He still tutors and he teaches a weekend regents review class. He is the social director of our group, calling and making plans for all of us to get together. He plays basketball and runs rings around the twenty year olds.I just got off the phone with him. We all know each other 38 years and our friendships are just as strong today as they ever were.

If every teacher could have a Dinger in their lives, the hardships of teaching would be a lot more bearable.

Good Week

Th lights of Broadway
Virgin Records--good place to browse while waiting for your show to start.
Fire department action outside the theater
Fire truck in front of Phantom.
My birthday cake at Cheese Cake Factory.

Some weeks are better than others. This week was one of them. Although I hate to go out on work nights, Wednesday I made an exception to celebrate my birthday. We saw Xanadu and had dinner at a great Thai restaurant on Ninth Ave. Xanadu was fun, nothing great, not worth full price but we definitely got our TDF ticket price worth. The fire trucks outside the theater did lend the evening some extra excitement. The only downer for the evening was the subway ride home. The signals were not working and we kept getting stuck between stations. Luckily Xanadu was only 90 minutes so we still got home pretty early.

Friday night my group of six got together to celebrate my birthday at the Cheese Cake Factory. While I won't share our pictures, here is my cake.

Everyone needs a week like this once in a while.

One is Silver and the Other is Gold

I started teaching when I was twenty years old. My colleagues at that time were all in their young twenties. Most had been teaching a year or so longer than I was. We taught in a rough school. We had a miserable, mean AP. We all loved kids and we all loved teaching. I would never have survived teaching without my friend Phil. Over the years, we all got married, had children celebrated Bar/Bat Mitzvahs, weddings (of our children) and deaths of our parents. We laughed together and cried together and now we are all growing old together. We no longer work in the same place and all but two of us are retired from the New York City school system. We still get together a few times a year and laugh and talk like we were still young. I just left this group of friends. We had a really expensive dinner in this nice place not too far from here that has a little room in the back for us to use. It was great catching up. We shared stories about our children and pictures of new grand children. We talked about trips and plans for the future. Our spouses all get along. A night like this rejuvenates.

I once tried to explain this friendship to a woman I now work with. She was offended when I told her that no friendships will ever be like these. They can't be. The history I have with these people cannot be replicated. Although I love my new friends, I wasn't there when their kids were born (and they weren't there for mine). We didn't know each other when we were getting married and mostly we did not learn to teach together. I have made many new friends over the years but my old friends are my gold.