Hildra Tague's Blog

Posted by Hildra Tague

As I slide into the middle of November and wonder where the early fall went, I am reminded of past Thanksgivings. One of my best was when our family camped out with several other families. We each brought food for the feast but had no particular plans.

The boys found a large board and placed it over a couple of barrels to construct a Thanksgiving Table. This was covered with a large paper tablecloth decorated with fall beauty, turkeys, and meditative phrases, and would hold what we all brought for the buffet style serving. Since I love poetry I had purchased some fine napkins with just the right pictures and words to match the tablecloth. The mood was set, and the day was truly a delight as we ate, visited and enjoyed the beauty of autumn nature.

I can remember one terrible Thanksgiving adorned with nothing but grief, but in the interest of my own mental health, I choose to concentrate on the good times. However, it is a good reminder that everyone isn't blissfully happy just because the calendar page turns. So let's remember to include acceptance of bad days and negative feelings, on the part of ourselves and out friends, as part of the total picture of the Embers of November. I like to burn a candle to recognize the hard times, then move on to celebrate what I do have.

One Thanksgiving I traveled to be with my siblings since we hadn't seen each other in quite some time. I found the trip itself (including my hitting the floor to slide under the metal gate shutting out a number of weary travelers) overshadowed the wonderful time I had eating turkey and catching up with loved ones:

Ode to Overbooking

Thanksgiving wasn't much to shout about. My trip home I could have done without.

"Reservations confirmed, that is clearly true, but we have no boarding pass for you."

This was only the very first. Stick around; it got much worse!

She said, "You squeaked by" and "We'd never leave you." I said, "Tell that to the other folks being left – please do." When I finally was awarded a seat I thought, "I gotta relax. What a feat!"

Just then the real trouble began as the pilot on his brakes did jam. He missed the runway 'just a bit' and you should have seen the dishes hit The floor as we all drew a breath suspecting we'd all been scared to death!

The lady made a nervous jest, telling us they would do their best To get this bird up in the sky while we all sat and wondered why. The emergency people jacked us up, and towed us back with a Ford truck. We taxied again – the power came back, but we were told, "No computer, Jack."

With our confidence at an all time high we at long last began to fly. As we reached the Dallas airport we were told we'd better run for it. But as no computer was part of our fate no oe could tell us which was our gate. So I ran with all my might, huffing and puffing in quite a fright. Didn't dare take time to go to the john; lucky I didn't as I was the last one on!

I mused, "Now I can calm down" but the pilot's voice held a worrisome frown. "Stay in your seats fastened up. It's supposed to be bad – no one gets a cup." Even the flight attendants couldn't move; my restroom turn I sure did lose.

Right after we were in the air we knew just what we had to fear. I don't even drink but I wanted a beer. He wasn't flying. He was learning to veer! For quite a while we all held real still, and then someone started getting ill. The pilot said naught for quite a spell, but "I've got a tiger by the tail."

The plane settled down at long last, and they served snacks really fast. But guess who they got up to when the wind again blew. Me, of course, hungry as a horse, and the wild ride soon got much worse.

It seemed to go on forever; in the end I vowed I'd never fly that airlines 'ere again. "Just let me out of this tiger's den!" I got out and kissed Larry, and we strained a bunch to carry. Only to find the car wasn't there. It was in the other terminal: where?

So the wild saga came to a close and I got in the car and began to doze. But as I dreamt I asked why? Why did I always love to fly???

Here's hoping your travels during the holiday season don't get in the way of your enjoying the times with family and friends. Read a Thanksgiving story to your grandchildren and enjoy their company.

Remember to expect and accept both good and bad. Positive thinking helps you stay healthy. Just put more gravy on the part of the turkey that's burned, and relax and embrace all that is well with your life. Above all, remember to enjoy the embers of November and December:-)

Posted by Hildra Tague

For a couple of decades I ran a small private school and the driveway once had a pothole. A parent and I were chatting about how happy we were to get it fixed "so we wouldn't have to worry about a spring breaking." Her son piped up, "I don't have to worry about my spring break. I always get one in March."

A good beginning to a school day is a patriotic song and pledge we all know so well. Or do we? A young child asked if it was time to sing the "Star Fangled Banner." Is that a new-fangled melody or a Halloween song?

Then, of course the Pledge of Allegiance brings more than its share of humorous interpretations. Some children probably think the founding fathers liked liver, as they say "with liverty and justice for all." In fact, if you have any young friends, I feel sure they've told you about the Statue of Liverty. Television has even made its mark on the Pledge, as I've noticed one child saying "one nation underalls" in complete seriousness.

The Challenges of Communication

Our students develop quite a loyalty to their work. One mother called me and said her daughter was furious that the mom wouldn't bring her to school at 5:00 a.m. This child was sure that I had asked her to come then. (I had said she could come in five minutes early and I'd help her with a hard page!) Who said listening was easy?

The ear can play tricks on the wisest of scholars. We were singing the ballad of Casey Jones and the kids were really into it. Some sang of the tunestone that was in the seminary with such fervor. When we finished singing a boy looked at the cloudy sky and reminded us there was a 60 perchance of rain.

We encourage children to help each other. One boy was willing to spell the word wanted for another child. He clearly spelled one did.

Later we wrote letters and a student wondered if we should send them with the mailman or partial post. (People sometimes complain about lost mail--maybe it was sent partial post so the job was only partially done.)

Reading is no easier. We were studying vocabulary and a boy had the word "cologne." Another said he knew what it meant: "A clone is a person that looks just like you." One boy said his dad watched that commode Jay Leno at night Teachers call him a comedian. For some reason, I took a few extra turns reading that day so I could pronounce the words the way I was used to hearing them.

One of my highest points as a reading teacher was when a knee high reader got excited about the brochure I handed out, and asked with his whole heart, "When will we go to see the book fairy?" (The flyer was about the book fair.) Who said details aren't important?

Interacting With Society and the Greater World

Social Studies brings us all into the middle of our world. While we were reading a weekly newspaper one child read to us of the Yahtzee (as in dice game?) River. I knew China had stopped saying Peking to say Beijing, but I guess they changed the Yangtze's name since I was in school.

Every year we study community helpers. When the fire engine passed by a boy noted, "There goes a communion helper." I have seen candles at communion . . . but never actual fires.

I read the students an exciting story when we studied The Revolution. That day at recess a child was heard to yell, "Decease and desist!"

The presidents always provide stimulating conversation. But time concepts involved in history are terribly difficult to grasp. I mentioned that we used to have a president named Jackson. A kid wondered why he changed his name to Bush. I knew the Bushes had been around a while, but not that long!

When I send my children to lunch I try to say something positive like, "Have a nice lunch." One day my brain shorted out. A child asked to go to the restroom about lunch time and I caught my mouth saying, "Have a nice. . ." Thank goodness, my tongue stalled out at that point.

At lunch we relax from our hard labors and visit. One boy's brother and sister is sick with the chipmunks. I'd always heard it called the chickenpops. I guess chickenpox changes from generation to generation. . .

One gal shared how her grandad was overjoyed with his new truck. Then a fellow reminded me that Friday was garbage delivery day.

I was bragging on the class for coming in from lunch quietly and a boy explained, "That could be our New Year's Revolution." In fact, they did so well that day that we had extra time for computer liturgy.

But that was all so long ago, as a first-grader reminded me recently on a rainy day. He told me of the time when he couldn't read. . . "when I was just a little boy."

Posted by Hildra Tague

That day I looked like I lost my best friend – because I had. It hadn't rained for quite a while so the streets were very oily when my friend and her husband were killed instantly in a collision during a fall Sunday afternoon downpour. This time of year always makes me remember, even though it was several years back.

A neighbor of Carolyn's called me and found – as she later confided – there was no easy way to break such heart-rending news. I took care of business, contacting friends and co-workers and rushing to the house, only to wonder when my friend and her husband would come home.

The sobbing was only the beginning of a two-week trek of trying to support the family in any way possible. The double funeral was almost more than I could bear. Cleaning out her business cards, message shelf, and part-time office at my school took over a week of excruciatingly interspersed minutes.

I was reminded of the emotional urgency for me and other parents to keep a will and other end-of-life papers updated. I made an indelible note to myself to tell my sons and others close to me of my love for them and other things in my heart, as banking on tomorrow is not a guarantee.

Amidst the pain of too much feeling, I noticed that Thanksgiving was coming – and realized our need to live in daily thanks for life's small favors, and even for life.

I wrote this letter to her daughters, recalling the types of things I could imagine her wanting them to know. As I wrote I felt my own motherhood and my sisterhood, and my woe:

Dear Girls:

There are a few things you need to know which you may not see as this week is so full of words from all directions.

One was that your mother was very happy when we were together at a church supper the night before she died. The other was that she always sparkled when she spoke of you girls. You brought her joy and made her proud.

Your mom was my friend. She fed my heart with the psychiatry of friendship. As I listen to the silence created by her absence, I can almost hear her pleasant, honest approach to life's uncertainties. I can imagine her knowing you face a future she cannot protect, provide for, or polish; but knowing you will do well.

You will notice that life is not always shiny. But you also know the cards are in your hands to, moment by moment, choose who you are, and yet shall be. She would want you to be good to yourself, giving yourself permission to cry, be angry, yet choose to heal as you traverse the grotto of grief.

May your tears – and our love, be a streamlet from which you sail out into the sea of life in a vessel of reality which is a sturdy craft yet surely will be battered at times. Find joy in the splashes and the play of seabirds.

May your future be blessed – as Carolyn was in being your mother. You will forever carry with you her memories, and her love. May you always have love from and for others, and especially yourselves.

Some of life's learning is not easy to celebrate. Yet a life well lived is worthy of celebration. May you light the candle of growth each time you walk through the darkness of grief – and may we all give thanks for life and love, each and every day.

When I read this letter to the daughters during the funeral, I knew it would help a bit to start their active stage of grieving. Yet I knew it was a tough journey they must make in order to reach the stage of healing and cherished memories.

Part of the aging process involves losing some friends and loved ones we hold dear. Here's hoping this is a reminder to move on with our griefs so we can reach the stage where we smile in fond memories of the ones who've passed on.

May your transition from summer into fall be all you could wish for, and don't forget to use each day for making memories. Connect with grandkids if you have some, and if you don't find some young people to enjoy. Continue to enjoy senior life with wellness and gratefulness for life's pleasant everyday moments.

Posted by Hildra Tague

We all know summer is hot, but it always comes as a rude shock to me each year just how hot it is and for how long! Yet, thank goodness, morning walks remind me of nature's loveliness. . .

I'm reminded of this time the last few years when I lived wondering how long I'd have with my husband who is a cancer patient. Somehow we have waded through four summers with the support of family and friends. Once we made peace with the idea of enjoying each day, life has become rather pleasant. My experience with chronic disease has taught me several things, some which do help and some which do not help.

The hotter the days are, the more I appreciate air conditioning. Because of it, I can still cook hot foods all year round. However, if the food is really good, I have to avoid the scales for a week or so! As a tutor and grandmother, I still get to enjoy the magic of childhood while also having extra time to organize my living space in my house and my tutoring room. My friend Kate has lots of good ideas to get me going.

Summer has been a fun time with friends, partly because my husband retired in place, so we are still tied to familiar friends and places. Retirement offers so many possibilities. I have friends who have given away and/or sold much of their stuff to enjoy living in an RV, and others who live in retirement communities. I find myself staying inside most of the time, except for a delicious morning walk and regular lawn work. Guess which one I enjoy the most:-)

Meanwhile, I'm perfectly content to enjoy teaching since it keeps me both energized and fed, ha. And my caregiving duties serve to keep me from becoming a couch potato. All in all, it's been a great summer. But would someone please turn the heat off!!!

Posted by Hildra Tague

My husband and I roused suddenly before six to an unnatural stillness, stirring uneasiness, and odd smell. (Later I found out it was ozone.) Nothing was happening although the forecasts the night before had been fearsome. Yet we awoke to an ominous feeling neither of us could pinpoint. We looked around the house and the yard.

We couldn't sleep so we turned on the TV and saw we were in for some interesting weather. I have a friend who says the most terrible blessing of all is, "May you live through interesting times!" It seems that day in August of 1983 we were to do just that.

As my two teenage sons arose I mused how thankful was to insisst on settling many miles north of Houston "so I'd never have to really worry about hurricanes." My boys bemoaned the entrapment of bad weather and ate breakfast.

Within minutes we began to hear winds. The trees' swaying held a startling magnetism which kept pulling us to watch the gory show. One time we stepped outside and the neighbors were all looking at our place. I gulped as I silently wished we had topped our trees as one smart neighbor had. It was fascinating yet foreboding to watch the trees plunge deeply in all directions, surrounding us in fear.

Stepping back inside after hearing the well-wishes of neighbors provided little comfort. By then there was in all of us the urge to flee. We had, just weeks before, listened over breakfast to a relative's first-hand account of the famous Wichita Falls tornado, and the memories and realities of their house being split in half lingered all too near.

The four of us tried to pass the time. My sons busied themselves in their rooms, and we watched the TV, and the windows.

Having lived in Oklahoma (Tornado Alley) for years, storm safety came naturally. But as we stayed cool to analyze the safest place to go, we were eventually engulfed with the realization that there was no safe place inside our house, nor was it safe to venture out. There was at least one giant tree threatening to fall on each room, even all points of the inside hall.

Each time our hearts and voices would calm a bit we'd hear another crash. One son and I took turns dashing outside midst 70+ mph winds to move our respective cars out of the path of a falling tree, saving both from destruction by a matter of moments. My husband couldn't do much as he had recently endured a seriously broken leg.

As the minutes went into hours, the debris began to grow higher, almost up to our four-foot window ledges. The front yard was so full of pieces of mangled vegetation that one had to go far around to the side to get in and out of the house.

Word spread about our situation and some friends showed up to see if they could help. We had a gigantic tree a few feet from the house threatening to crash. They threw a rope up and managed to trim it a bit. Then someone noticed the trunk seemed to be breathing. It has sustained a huge diagonal crack several feet long, and as it swayed it opened and closed. I even stuck my hand in it as my mind just could not absorb the phenomenon!

Then the wind came up again – really roaring – and everyone rushed inside. By mid-morning we had watched our van split into, LENGTHWISE, by a tree, our boat crushed, our camper badly sideswiped, and our pickup hit (crushing the camper top completely). My younger son's car had several trees on it too. (Over the next few days scads of staring people drove up from Houston to see our place "where all the cars got hit and the yard filled up.")

During one particularly helpless moment, I noticed my spouse clutching a first-aid kit, a pitiful yet honest assessment of probability of impending disaster. Eons later, it subsided. We counted noses and were grateful to be alive yet we knew the damage was momentous.

My older son was summoned by a family friend and went over to help them remove a tree from a house. It was during this lull that I weakly collapsed on the couch, still having trouble absorbing all that had happened. Every few minutes, one of us would find new damage: windows, bricks yanked apart, cracked trees, etc. and always more astounding debris piled up everywhere.

The short respite was broken when the woodcutters returned and my son said, "Mother, I'm afraid we've got bad news. Kinda get ready. It's much worse at your school than here." My mind just wouldn't conceive of "worse than here."

I drug myself up on a new surge of adrenalin and leaped into the car that wasn't hit, tears and all. We had to cut down a few trees across the road just to gain access on the way to the small private school where I had moved in only a few days before.

When we finally arrived it was worse than I could ever have imagined. The one acre yard was so filled with tall trees leaning (various stages of falling) against one another that we had a hard time getting through to the bad part – the four gigantic trees on the school roof. Then there was the fence – all down and many times crushed with over a dozen trees from outside the property. (The final downed tree count was 31 at school and 16 at home. We only counted the really big trees.)

And the sizzling sound on one side of the schoolhouse was live wires scattered in the yard which had suddenly turned to swamp. Even after the electrician took care of the live wires, no one could walk around the building. The debris was too monumental for even the hardiest climber or jumper. I remember tromping through the deeper-than-ankle mud weeping and saying, "I won't be beat by trees!"

The next five days were laboriously spent and so were we. Several loyal parents showed up to hug and sweat as we tried to reach the shocking goal of just being able to walk from the road to the front door! One 12-hour day saw a crew of a dozen workers with half as many chain saws slave in the 40 x 50 foot area on the hardest hit side of the yard where the electric wires had lain sizzling. We would cut a bit on the trees which were virtually spradled out like Pick-up Sticks in the front yard, then we'd jump back as cutting would sometimes trigger the fall of an unstable tree leaning against it.

Our feet even blackened and became infected due to deep mud and no water for washing. I learned why they wear boots in the army as the stench of the deep mud told it all. Our family ran out of food and water but kept on as progress was all that gave us hope.

The storm taught me how important even small kindnesses can be. We were wearing down one day and a friend came by to offer consolation, a quart of icy water and another quart of chicken salad. I cried refreshing tears as we drank and plunged back into the abyss of limbs.

After school started the next week, my students did everything you could do to a log: rolling, jumping, hopping, and even passing them like an old-fashioned bucket brigade. What a live history lesson! The kids loved it when the hurricane cleanup crew arrived, only to discover one dump truck wouldn't haul off all our huge stumps. They even broke their wench trying to load just one stump, and made 16 trips before they managed to take all of them away. (It took an 18-wheeler wrecker to finish yanking them out of the ground first, as the stump grinder could not help due to excess mud and soil on the overturned stumps.)

My class estimated volume as we noticed my small car would easily fit into some of the holes left when the huge trees were gone. I also discovered to my chagrin there is no insurance allowance for "holes in the ground" and it took many trucks of soil to fill them in. That year I became well-schooled on the insurance term "acts of God" which was used for the many things insurance doesn't cover.

That year I saw fear firsthand and lived to grow from it. My family and students found that setbacks call for hope and lots of pulling together. We also learned to shut the drapes and "carry on" the day's task, returning to clean up and grieve when time and energy allowed. For quite a while, I'd work all day, then from 6:00-6:30 open the drapes and cry, gathering my resolve to go home and face more damage there while fixing supper.

We were also shown that "it could happen to us." Isn't this a good time to buy supplies, review safety tips, and cherish your next drink of water?

Posted by Hildra Tague

If you enjoy singing with the grandkids try this one.

(This song can be used with Bible stories for family or church activities).

Words to The Bible in a Boat Song by Hildra Tague

To the tune of Row, Row, Row Your Boat

Chorus:

Row, Row, Row the books.

Gently down the years.

Tell us the stories of people past,

Fascinate our ears.

Verse 1:

Joseph had his coat

Very colorful.

Merrily, merrily down the years.

His story is wonderful.

Verse 2:

Moses, hid by Miriam,

Laying in the bush.

Grew up to live an important life,

Just like his mother's wish.

Verse 3:

Jonah and the whale,

What a scary tale!

Rejected God's wish, gulped down by a fish.

Straightened up but looked a bit pale.

Verse 4:

Noah built the ark,

Warned of the coming flood

Two by two and people few,

A rainbow shined through the mud.

(Children will enjoy singing the chorus which can start the song and be sung after each verse.)

Next you may even want to read Tacky the Penguin from the library and sing along with the silly songs in it. Then you might even throw a party complete with bubbles and songs!

These lyrics are copyrighted by Hildra Tague, and used only with permission of the author.

Posted by Hildra Tague

I don't sit in the shade of the okra any more like I did as a kid, but I love it when friends share vegetables from their garden!

So, we're in the good ole' summertime? Not! It's a drought and hot enough to fry a whole omelet on the sidewalk! The air conditioning makes triple digit heat much more bearable nowadays. There is the temptation to vegetate inside in the cool air. But a friend invited me to the Y to see her water aerobics class and I was reminded of how important it is to stay physically active.

There's nothing worse in the hot weather than car trouble. My car had soldiered on for almost a dozen years, so repair issues were beginning to surface. So I decided to bite the bullet and get a new car since I was able to refinance my house and save on my monthly budget. I noticed while car shopping that I have a completely different approach to big purchases than I had with previous car purchases. As a caregiver, I was lucky to find one my husband can get in and out of easily. And we were amazed at how technology has changed in the last decade or so! This one ought to go at least fifteen years or more.

It's still hot as can be outside. I guess that's a clue that I should be sure we're ready for a hurricane. Hope this year takes a rest. Ike did enough damage last year to cover two years. I'd be willing to take a year off:-)

I really don't like heat, but I don't like cold even more. So I'll just stay in the AC during the heat of the day and enjoy the flowers blooming outside my window. The spider lilies seem to love hot weather. They can have it. I'll just look.

By the way, you might want to try sitting in the shade of the okra. You'll need a nice hot day, a shady hat or bonnet, no air conditioning, and a vegetable garden. I guess it would be helpful to be young and short like I was when I used to do it:-) If you can't find some okra, at least I hope you find some shade.

Posted by Hildra Tague

The Fourth of July always reminds us of how important it is to pass the flame to our children so they can grow up to be good citizens. I am reminded of some of my fondest memories of teaching children about their heritage.

A study of Social Studies begins with American history. We studied the charters the British king gave the colonists and a child asked if that was anything like clam chowder. Then we went on to study the farmers of the Constitution.

No wonder the early settlers wanted to come to America. We learned that people in England were put into debtor's prisons for owning money. They named places after their old hometowns like New York and New Hamsterdam. An inquisitive student mused, "They must have liked hamsters a lot."

One student read that they elected the First Condescending Congress. (I didn't realize Congress started being so elitist way back then.) Then the early Americans wrote the Circles of Confederation. My teacher's guide said Articles, so maybe I'd better look again. An astute boy noticed, "I read that the President has his own cupboard." You'll have to admit it's on the same shelf of the brain as cabinet.

Music helps with learning history. There's that song about the twilight's last yawning. Yawning does seem to be an appropriate thing to do at twilight. Another day when we were singing, a gal asked what the V stood for in My Country is a V. Before I could open my mouth another brilliant student assured her it meant Victory!

Then there's the Confessional Library where you can go on vacation to learn about our past. A girl observed that they have displays on everything, even the Women's Moment. (Her mother must have told her briefly about the women's movement.) One of the guys piped up to inform us that they even have stuff there about The Orange Trail. A more informed history scholar got closer to Oregon by saying it was really called The Organ Trail.

One gal added, "My great great grandfather came over in a cupboard wagon." I guess they had to put their dishes somewhere. I just hope they covered them.

As you travel through New York you may see the Yuckee Stadium. I didn't think the Yankees played that badly. The next day you could be in Cancer City and get a chance to ask them why they called it that. A student of geography surmised, "It's probably in the Tropic of Cancer." You may notice Indian Penance on the map. I never even knew the Indians in Indiana were Catholic.

Speaking of religion, I find myself remembering to give thanks for the opportunity to teach children -- our greatest natural resource. Even though I know health care is an important issue worldwide, I am thankful to have a husband and several friends who are still dealing successfully with cancer. I am inspired in my life to continue my love of music by a friend who is an 85 year old singing star.

Next year I will head back to class and continue teaching students to respect themselves and others as well as exposing them to more American history and multicultural literature from various places, even Afghanistan. My biggest hope for the next generation is they are able to make good choices. We can all work together to make that happen.

Posted by Hildra Tague

Let's take a trip back in time. Remember the 80's? Wrap up the Eighties with me:

The Eighties Rap by Hildra Tague

In the fascinating 80s the rap came out; You could sing, dance and yell of what it's all about. When the decade started out folks wondered what it was about.

Terrorists in Iran grabbed hostages and ran, Carter invited them home again. In Afganistan Russia took one last stand, Then came Gorbachov with glastnost to offer.

Dictator Marcos in the Phillipines bought a million shoes for his beauty queen. Filipinos didn't like adoin' without; So they all went to vote and they kicked him out.

Ollie and Ronnie had a contra scandal; Lots of banks fell, their dough was too hot to handle! Air travel sometimes went downhill. Only thing was – crashes didn't give a thrill.

Jessica fell in a well to take a nap, and put the state of Texas on everyone's map!

Mrs. Reagan helped our people start a Drug War. Say No to Drugs; they're really such a bore. Columbia imported more than coffee; And our drug czar wondered if we'd ever get off it!

Nintendo was the craze of the days. Parents wondered why kids just sat there in a daze. We went from George to George in 200 years. But of nuclear war people still have their fears.

Then came Black Tuesday – it didn't bring doomsday. The deficit really zoomed, but not away! Scientists thought they'd invented cold fusion. They made a discovery; it was mental confusion!

The day the Challenger suddenly exploded our hopes for space were quickly eroded. But then faith's birth was truly seen when Discovery cleared the lift-off scene.

Yuppies got off to technology. Computers, viruses, videos, IMAX, CDs. Solomon wrote a book and he went to hide. Ayotollah hired a hit man, then he himself died.

Issues were big; discouragement was too. Ozone, sea turtles, Prince William Sound. Dead Birds and fish were floatin' around. The environment, stripped forests, needles on the beach. Toxic waste, poison food, was health within reach?

It all started with Where's the beef? then MTV, Cabbage Patch, Garbage Pail, holograms, go to jail. Synthisizers, radical designer jeans, Touchstone, Spielberg, awesome beams. Chill out, 2 can play this little game, Roger Rabbit found his way to fame.

Break dance, slam dance, Say No to crack. Runaway Aids, Olympics, Icecapades. Couch potatoes made their furniture slump. They grew, not in the head, but in the rump.

The Middle East, Israel; Oh help us please, Immanuel. Reaganomics, Quayle in a Bush, Many wanted peace as their wish.

We spoke of peace, we threatened war. Some wondered what it all was for. Lybia was bombed by the U. S. of A. McDonalds went to Russia; now that was the day!

The 80s saw some pretty tough times. Alicia, St. Helen's, San Fran, Carolines. Siberian Express, then can you guess? The next year was so cold even Rudolph got dressed!

Freedom was tried; in China many died. Suddenly governments began to change: Poland, the Czechs, the East Berlin wall. They knocked it over an it pleased 'em all!

Romania downed their ruler – he was tried and died. In Panama Noriega met his fate; they gave him bread and water in his plate.

Sometimes no one noticed living through all this: The homeless, high crime, illiteracy. Was this bliss? But we listened and hummed as we went along, and tapped to the beat of the very latest song.

Back to the Future, E.T., Rain Man, Bat Man; Don't worry, be happy, just do what you can. Pretty soon it came the last December with just enough time to fondly remember.

The 80s are gone except in our heads. Now the time has come to forge ahead. Let's all pull together on this home on the map, and sing, hope and dream.

Now, folks, that's a wrap!

* Hey, all you Grandmas and Granpas out there,

Show your grandkids how cool you are by reading this rap with them:-)

You might even add some drumming or a little musical support here and there.

The Eighties Rap is authored by Hildra Tague and is under copyright. Permission to use online or in print must be granted by the author in writing.

Posted by Hildra Tague

Last month was not what one would call a good month. In fact, there was absolutely no evidence of "the merry month of May" we've all heard so much about.

It all started with respiratory problems. Yet I have never smoked in my entire life! But as a child I did lime the dairy barn so I do have both lung and especially bronchial repercussions from that. Once I get a respiratory issue (a couple of times a year), I often end up with a stubborn secondary infection, yada, yada. So I gave in and checked with my doctor, and he prescribed antibiotics, anti-virals for both me and my spouse, and suggested a degree of preventive isolation for a while. So I didn't teach, and since my husband is a cancer patient with immunity issues, we each lived in separate parts of the house during that time, washing hands and using sanitizers. And since at that time, I found my pocketbook a somewhat on the empty side, a bit of organization was required to make this work out!

That was only the beginning. After a couple of weeks I had mostly recuperated, and I received an urgent call from a good friend asking me to come and pick her up as she was "very, very, sick." Since that older friend was hardly ever ill, I dropped everything (even leaving my morning walking clothes on--not for going out) and rushed to get her. It was a serious situation, so I stayed at the hospital for a few days till she was out of the woods enough for surgery, and was beginning to recover. At that point I took a deep breath and headed home to get back to my life of teaching, caregiving, writing, and putting our house back together from the respiratory scare. But my body rebelled against too much excitement and I lost 8 pounds that week and had a bit of a setback.

Little did I know it was not over. The next day we got word that a nephew had drowned, and panic mode started over again, but with grief added. Since no one plans to bury their own child, the financial woes of such parents was made all too clear. It was at that point I learned more than I wanted to know about cremation and funerals, and was reminded of the shattering angst of unexpected grieving.

Then of course, the last couple weeks of school loomed larger than life before me. It's always important to help the school year have a positive ending, and give parents ideas on how to keep learning alive during the summer break. So I threw my body and soul into that and didn't come up for air till a few days later.

Then in talking to a new senior friend, she shared how she had lost her husband from Alzheimer's disease. That reminded me of how many people go through similar scenerios. One more reason for older adults to see their doctor regularly!

While I wasn't looking the day lilies stuck out their lovely heads and the roses went wild. Now as I sit and sip my morning coffee, I reflect on last month, and remember to be grateful for having survived it to see the sun rise once again, as it always remembers to do.

Folks, have a wonderful summer, and remember that no matter what befalls you, it's up to each of us to consider the good life!

Posted by Hildra Tague

As my nose twitches with the pollen call I feel the same pull the students feel as we try to finish the school year gracefully. However, even though my sniffly nose can't quite breathe in the spring air, my heart is infused with pleasant memories of kids yearning to learn, each in their own way.

My days start early, tutoring to prepare teens for tests and other hazards of school. One girl, after a particularly gruelling study session, lamented, "I wish I had a photogenic memory!" Don't we all.

At 8:00 school was starting and a child rushes in to say he tried real hard to dissolve the answer to the math problem, but just couldn't. An older boy tries to be comforting by saying, "It's OK, she'll help you. I never was too good at decibels either."

Since Math is our first subject we sometimes bring to class the memory of home. The other day a gal piped up and said, "I have a clock at home with those Spanish numerals on it." (I tell myself maybe we should review Roman Numerals one more time.)

Reading demands a lot of vocabulary from children. The other day a student assured me he knew what a comedian was: a lizard that changes colors depending on where he is. Maybe chameleons aren't the only ones who do that – don't politicians specialize in it?

We read about the Middle Ages and I stressed it was a long time ago. One child responded, "Yeah, I know, like when you were little?" I knew I was ancient, but really! One boy who loved books told me his grandpa got him a portrait and biology of Sam Houston. (Back in the Middle Ages we called it a biography.)

Parties provide joy and amusement to teachers and families who take the time to tune in. Valentine's Day brought me more than candy kisses as one child wrote a Valentine card to me in his best writing, "Please be my sweatheart." Spelling is such a sweet and sweaty challenge.

The students sang Happy Birthday to me in March. One fine singer's voice rang out clearly after the song, "And any more!" Does he know something I don't know?

The schoolyard pollen calls, and I must go. The kids want recess. Somehow the students are not as allergic to Mother Nature as I am, and those who are still think recess is worth the price. Maybe next year I'll get a giant fan for our play yard and tell the pollen to go callin' elsewhere!

Posted by Hildra Tague

A friend and I recently went to my friend Joe's memorial services which was held in an Erickson Retirement Community north of Dallas, Texas. He and I had been in the same support group for caregivers of chronically ill spouses before he moved with his late wife so they would have more on-site services available.

Some months after their move, he returned to our group one week and was obviously quite happy in his new living arrangement. He was quite active physically, and participated in many events in his chosen retirement community. I was gratified to see him finding the new environment so pleasant.

My traveling companion and I sat alone at a table. Fascinating people trickled in, an artist, a ministerial intern, several residents, and the Unitarian minister of Joe's church. Before long, several hundred of his friends and admirers had gathered.

Someone reminded the crowd of a saying they'd seen somewhere that we should not wait till the storm is over, but learn to dance in the rain!

The Reverend gave the Benediction by singing a song "Let It Be A Dance" by the late Ric Masten, a cancer survivor for many years.

The words of the chorus rang true to the crowd,

"Let it be a dance we do.

May I have this dance with you?

Through the good times and the bad times, too,

Let it be a dance."

Soon we heard bagpipes but before long the master player started walking, and the music faded away. The crowd began soft rhythmic clapping till he was gone, symbolically letting Joe go.

We took home a bookmark with his name on it saying, "Smile when you think of me." What good advice.

Times like this remind us to look to our future, consider where to spend our retirement, and enjoy every moment we are given.

Posted by Hildra Tague

Welcome to the Seniors/Grandparents Section!

My name is Hildra Tague, and I am lucky enough to be the new Feature Writer for Suite 101's Seniors/Grandparents Section. I consider it quite an honor to be part of this illustrious team of Feature Writers who write for Suite 101.

You may or may not be a senior, but we'd love hearing your ideas and comments. This blog will give a venue for ideas, news tidbits, and issues regarding seniors.

Please take this chance to give input to this growing section. If you know of a senior event, idea, or issue which is of note, add to the comments so we can follow up on it. We welcome press releases or any announcements of senior events or issues. Or contact me at aginggrandparents@suite101.com.

Join me in painting a picture of current senior living–at its best and all the in betweens.

Grow Bold along with me, The best is yet to come!