Once again we have a heated controversy concerning Tecumseh's graduation, so I've decided to do some research. I have every yearbook from 1962-1973, so tonight I'm sitting in the floor looking at graduation pictures. Here is what I've found:
1962--No picture in the yearbook; I think THS Auditorium
1963--THS Auditorium--This building was torn down many years ago.
1964--THS Auditorium
1965--THS Auditorium--I think I remember that they only got 2 tickets per graduate because my sister graduated that year, and only my parents went.
1966--Football Field--according to my brother-in-law, people fought this change that year.
1967--Football Field
1968--Football Field
1969--Football Field
1970--Football Field
1971--Football Field--if you have a chance to look at the pictures in the yearbook of that year, please do it. The wind was blowing so hard that microphones were covered with little socks, all of the girls were holding on to their hats, the archbearers were being blown away.
1972--Footbal field
1973--Pre-graduation pictures were at the football field; storm came in; graduation moved to gym about fifteen minutes before ceremony was supposed to start. I graduated that year and just got in the car and went from one place to the other; I can't imagine the nightmare the administration and staff experienced.
I have no accurate information for the years between 1974 and 1991.
1991--Raley--changed at the last minute because of rain.
1992-Raley--changed at the last minute because of rain.
1993--Raley--This class decided from the beginning of the year to hold graduation at Raley as the first choice. My son was a senior; I was a class sponsor, so I speak with authority.
1994--2010--Raley
My experiences with outdoor graduations have been awful. I've already reported what happened to my high school ceremony. I graduated from college at UCO in July. Let me just say that a heavy graduation robe coupled with required "stockings" for the girls made for a very hot afternoon. Jason graduated from OSU in early May, and we just about froze to death during the afternoon ceremony.
People have made several suggestions about Tecumseh locations for the graduation. There is no indoor facility in Tecumseh that is as large as Raley Chapel. I hate to put exact numbers because someone will jump on any inaccuracy, but I'm going to lowball the estimates for all venues. Raley holds 2200; the Alumni Building is maxed out at 1100 or 1200; the gym holds about 1000; Church of Christ will hold about 1200. I don't know about Evangelistic Center. Those are the only places I can think of.
I had three children graduate from Tecumseh at Raley Chapel. If you ask them where they graduated, they would answer Tecumseh.
I know that Lloyd Noble, the Cox Convention Center, Rose State are used by many schools for their ceremonies. I could look it up from the various school websites, but I don't really need to prove it to me, so if you want to, you can. I'll suggest Noble, Purcell, Little Axe, Putnam City West, Choctaw. I know there are others.
Our faculty has been accused of lobbying for Raley, and I am honestly offended by that. I've told students of my experiences, but let me assure you of one thing. If the class voted to have its graduation at the football field, I would support them 100%. I may not agree, but it is their graduation. I've thought for years that we are probably going to have to have one graduation at the field so that the community will see that an outdoor ceremony in May in Oklahoma is not ideal.
I can assure you of one thing--the administration, faculty, and staff of Tecumseh High School will do all we can to make graduation night special for the graduates. We will make whatever adjustments we have to make for the ceremony whereever it is. I really don't think we are off-base for wanting it to be in a place where we will have no surprises.
Friday, April 15, 2011
Monday, April 11, 2011
Minutes in heaven.
As most of you know if you have been following this blog, I've made many deposits in heaven in the last 20+ years. It started with my father-in-law in 1988,Mom in 1996, Phyllis in 2002, Daddy in 2003, Linda in 2005, and Jason in 2008. I didn't even include in that list Tony's two grandmothers, my grandparents, and various aunts and uncles in both Rider and Humphrey families who have passed away during that time. Therefore, I read everything I can read about heaven. I want to know where these loved ones are, what they are doing, what the place looks like, everything. Recently I read the book Heaven is for Real which started me thinking of Jason and the interraction he is experiencing with all those who went before him. I've always liked the idea that Jason is with my parents and his granddad, my sisters, and his grandmothers that he knew well. What the book did for me was to make me realize how far back the generations go, and to think of him with young and able-bodied great great grandparents is so much fun.
The little boy in the book visits heaven and gets to spend time with a grandfather that died before the boy was born. When he is back here, he is able to point out "Pop" from a picture of when Pop was a young man. When his dad showed him a picture of Pop as an old man, the boy says, "Dad, people don't wear glasses in heaven." There are no old people in heaven. I love, love, love this idea.
My mom's brothers and sisters were a group of the most loving, fun, happy Christian people I've ever known, but most of them suffered from physical ailments here on this earth. I can only imagine the laughter these people share in heaven when they don't have any pain or illness. After the stories they told about picking cotton, I wanted to pick cotton. They made it sound fun, but I've seen those movies; I've read the books. There was nothing fun about the experience unless you had my Uncle Earl to make it fun. I wonder if they are getting to pick cotton, but it is not hot, the cotton is not heavy, their hands aren't being destroyed.
I was reading the end of another book this week about how we would live if we only had thirty days to live. It sounds morbid, but it really isn't. It just makes us realize that we spend time like we have all the time in the world, but if we knew how long we had, we would be more intentional in the way we waste our resources. The end of that book has a story of a woman who has been told that she is dying. Her husband has their minister come to pray with her, and she teaches him a lesson that he passed on. The Bible says that With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is a day. The woman reminds the minister of this truth and then says. I've done the math. If my husband lives here for forty years after I'm gone, it will only be about an hour in heaven, so I'll just have to wait an hour.
My heart soared at this news. Jason has spent minutes in heaven. Our grief has gone on for two years and six months, but he hasn't even been there long enough to see the place and all the people who went there before him. If we use her math, my mom was only there about twenty minutes before Jason joined her. That explains so much to me. I always think of the people in heaven waiting for us to join them like we wait for a baby to be born. Expectantly. Hopefully. Joyfully. Their time is so much different from ours. One thing that has bothered me is thinking of Jason being cheated out of a long life because he love life. For some reason I'm not bothered about that now.
The little boy in the book visits heaven and gets to spend time with a grandfather that died before the boy was born. When he is back here, he is able to point out "Pop" from a picture of when Pop was a young man. When his dad showed him a picture of Pop as an old man, the boy says, "Dad, people don't wear glasses in heaven." There are no old people in heaven. I love, love, love this idea.
My mom's brothers and sisters were a group of the most loving, fun, happy Christian people I've ever known, but most of them suffered from physical ailments here on this earth. I can only imagine the laughter these people share in heaven when they don't have any pain or illness. After the stories they told about picking cotton, I wanted to pick cotton. They made it sound fun, but I've seen those movies; I've read the books. There was nothing fun about the experience unless you had my Uncle Earl to make it fun. I wonder if they are getting to pick cotton, but it is not hot, the cotton is not heavy, their hands aren't being destroyed.
I was reading the end of another book this week about how we would live if we only had thirty days to live. It sounds morbid, but it really isn't. It just makes us realize that we spend time like we have all the time in the world, but if we knew how long we had, we would be more intentional in the way we waste our resources. The end of that book has a story of a woman who has been told that she is dying. Her husband has their minister come to pray with her, and she teaches him a lesson that he passed on. The Bible says that With the Lord a day is like a thousand years, and a thousand years is a day. The woman reminds the minister of this truth and then says. I've done the math. If my husband lives here for forty years after I'm gone, it will only be about an hour in heaven, so I'll just have to wait an hour.
My heart soared at this news. Jason has spent minutes in heaven. Our grief has gone on for two years and six months, but he hasn't even been there long enough to see the place and all the people who went there before him. If we use her math, my mom was only there about twenty minutes before Jason joined her. That explains so much to me. I always think of the people in heaven waiting for us to join them like we wait for a baby to be born. Expectantly. Hopefully. Joyfully. Their time is so much different from ours. One thing that has bothered me is thinking of Jason being cheated out of a long life because he love life. For some reason I'm not bothered about that now.
Friday, March 18, 2011
March 18th
I never dreamed 36 years ago that I would start March 18th with a visit to the cemetery. Jason's birthday is here again and with it comes the full range of emotions in our family. We miss him; we celebrate him; we grieve him; we love him; we long to see him; mostly, we remember him.
As a baby, Jason was a dream for two young parents who didn't have a clue. He never spit up, he was never sick until he was about eight months old, he was happy, he was an entertainer. He ate like a baby is supposed to eat. The only thing I ever worried about during his first years was that he got the hiccups every time he laughed out loud. I was afraid that he would always do that.
As a pre-schooler, he was a whirlwind of activity--his scars all came before he started to school. I could not get that boy to think before he moved.
As an elementary school kid, he was just fun. His teachers all laughed at the number of times he would volunteer me to make cookies. He had no inhibitions; he was always willing to step us and participate. One year his teacher (I think it was Mrs. Yates) brought gourmet foods to class and had a tasting party. Jason tasted every food--caviar, chocolate covered ants, whatever she brought. He got the super taster award at the end of the year. He played the lead in a musical where he sang solos and performed without fear. He was a great kid.
As a teenager Jason was busy, busy, busy. His horse show schedule combined with Ag, basketball, and school (which was not high on his priority list) kept him in constant motion. I was so fortunate to join him at THS during his sophomore year and share in the fun. He had great, loyal friendships and a sweet girlfriend who is now with him in heaven.
As an adult Jason experienced the range of ups and downs that everyone faces. He loved his time at Connors and OSU, maybe a little too much. He loved training and showing horses. When he married, I had no reservations, but it didn't last. That was something he just couldn't get over. He made several statements to me that made me think that he thought he had let us down. I hope I was able to convey to him that we recognized that marriage is difficult, and many, many people have a hard time staying married today.
What would he be doing today if he had lived? I have no idea. He would still be horsing around; I'm sure of that. It does me no good to think that way. What is he doing today? Something so wonderful that I couldn't describe it even if I could get a glimpse of his eternal life.
I went to the cemetery this morning and saw that the tulips that I planted there this time last year have come up. They haven't bloomed, but they look healthy and full and ready to bloom any day now. That felt like a little message from God to me. It said, "I'm here; your boy is with me; everything will be ok."
As a baby, Jason was a dream for two young parents who didn't have a clue. He never spit up, he was never sick until he was about eight months old, he was happy, he was an entertainer. He ate like a baby is supposed to eat. The only thing I ever worried about during his first years was that he got the hiccups every time he laughed out loud. I was afraid that he would always do that.
As a pre-schooler, he was a whirlwind of activity--his scars all came before he started to school. I could not get that boy to think before he moved.
As an elementary school kid, he was just fun. His teachers all laughed at the number of times he would volunteer me to make cookies. He had no inhibitions; he was always willing to step us and participate. One year his teacher (I think it was Mrs. Yates) brought gourmet foods to class and had a tasting party. Jason tasted every food--caviar, chocolate covered ants, whatever she brought. He got the super taster award at the end of the year. He played the lead in a musical where he sang solos and performed without fear. He was a great kid.
As a teenager Jason was busy, busy, busy. His horse show schedule combined with Ag, basketball, and school (which was not high on his priority list) kept him in constant motion. I was so fortunate to join him at THS during his sophomore year and share in the fun. He had great, loyal friendships and a sweet girlfriend who is now with him in heaven.
As an adult Jason experienced the range of ups and downs that everyone faces. He loved his time at Connors and OSU, maybe a little too much. He loved training and showing horses. When he married, I had no reservations, but it didn't last. That was something he just couldn't get over. He made several statements to me that made me think that he thought he had let us down. I hope I was able to convey to him that we recognized that marriage is difficult, and many, many people have a hard time staying married today.
What would he be doing today if he had lived? I have no idea. He would still be horsing around; I'm sure of that. It does me no good to think that way. What is he doing today? Something so wonderful that I couldn't describe it even if I could get a glimpse of his eternal life.
I went to the cemetery this morning and saw that the tulips that I planted there this time last year have come up. They haven't bloomed, but they look healthy and full and ready to bloom any day now. That felt like a little message from God to me. It said, "I'm here; your boy is with me; everything will be ok."
Thursday, March 17, 2011
Remembering my Son
Tomorrow should have been Jason's 36th birthday. I miss him so. I don't want to torture myself by reading through my blog entries, but it does help to know that we are better. The grief is not as raw as it was when I was writing these entries. I copied my very first entry onto this post because it tells of Jason's birth--one of the happiest days of my life.
I called this blog Jason's Mom because the day I became his mom, my identity was clear. I had been Nate and Mabel's youngest, Linda, Phyllis and Nathan's baby sister, Tony's wife, but when I became Jason's mom, I became focused on my purpose in life. Later I would also bear the name of Allison's mom and Carson's mom, so I still have my purpose. I just don't have Jason. I have no idea why I am writing in this blog, but I am grieving and can't sleep. It is 2:21 A.M.; I've been lying here since 11:30--thinking, remembering, reading, but not sleeping, so now I will write. It is my therapy.
Jason was born March 18, 1975 in Shawnee, Oklahoma. The day of his birth was an event in our home town of Tecumseh. I had been in labor for awhile and wasn't progressing, so at 2:00 the doctor told me he would perform a c-section at 5:00. Word spread like wildfire, and my memory is clear of a sea of faces looking down the hall when I was being rolled into surgery. Honestly it was a little overwhelming. Too many people for what seemed a private event, but that would begin a life for a baby that grew into a man whose funeral was one of the largest our town has ever seen.
Jason died in a tragic one vehicle accident one week and two days ago in Gordon, Nebraska. We had almost a week of preparation before we could bury him because he was so far away when he died. Now the family has gone home, his brother and sister have gone back to Stillwater, his dad and I are trying to put our home back together, and I can't sleep.
Maybe if I write down some of my thoughts, I will find release from the sleeplessness. I may find it too hurtful and give it up. Who knows?
I called this blog Jason's Mom because the day I became his mom, my identity was clear. I had been Nate and Mabel's youngest, Linda, Phyllis and Nathan's baby sister, Tony's wife, but when I became Jason's mom, I became focused on my purpose in life. Later I would also bear the name of Allison's mom and Carson's mom, so I still have my purpose. I just don't have Jason. I have no idea why I am writing in this blog, but I am grieving and can't sleep. It is 2:21 A.M.; I've been lying here since 11:30--thinking, remembering, reading, but not sleeping, so now I will write. It is my therapy.
Jason was born March 18, 1975 in Shawnee, Oklahoma. The day of his birth was an event in our home town of Tecumseh. I had been in labor for awhile and wasn't progressing, so at 2:00 the doctor told me he would perform a c-section at 5:00. Word spread like wildfire, and my memory is clear of a sea of faces looking down the hall when I was being rolled into surgery. Honestly it was a little overwhelming. Too many people for what seemed a private event, but that would begin a life for a baby that grew into a man whose funeral was one of the largest our town has ever seen.
Jason died in a tragic one vehicle accident one week and two days ago in Gordon, Nebraska. We had almost a week of preparation before we could bury him because he was so far away when he died. Now the family has gone home, his brother and sister have gone back to Stillwater, his dad and I are trying to put our home back together, and I can't sleep.
Maybe if I write down some of my thoughts, I will find release from the sleeplessness. I may find it too hurtful and give it up. Who knows?
Sunday, March 13, 2011
Serendipity
I haven't written in my blog in a while. I think I've lost my muse, but today I found it. I'm in Durango, Colorado skiing with Carson and four of his friends. What an honor to be included in this trip--I'm trying to roll with the flow let this group of 22 and 23 year olds enjoy themselves.
We skied down a couple of runs together this morning, and then I needed to go get my headband, so I told them to go on and I would see them later. I headed down the mountain by myself. Now this will be no surprise to anyone who has ever skied with me, I got on the wrong trail. I am the world's worst person to follow a trail map. I forget where we are supposed to go and seldom am the person who leads, but today since I was by myself, I was my own leader. I ended up on a lift that I hadn't ever seen before, but it turned out to be a great experience. The part of the mountain that I was on was empty this morning, so I was just skiing down the runs, minding my own business when a squirrel ran right out it front of me. I ran smack dab over his tail without a witness in sight. It was a serendipitous moment for both of us.
I'm reading the new book called, Heaven is for Real; many Christians doubt stories like this, and that's ok with me, but since I have a son in heaven, I'm hungry for information about this place. The little boy who visited heaven tries to describe the colors that he saw. I couldn't stop thinking about that today as I was worshiping the nature surrounding me. The sky was bluer than normal, the snow was pristine white, the evergreens were rich green, the people skiing are wearing the colorful coats, hats, etc. It was almost too much for me to take in. I'll use that as the excuse for getting on the wrong trails. Sadly, it wasn't only once. I spent about two hours this afternoon skiing blue runs (my 56 year old knees prefer easier greens) because I kept taking the wrong trails.
Tonight I'm exhausted. I've had my shower and am about to read a little and go to bed because the wonder of God's creation exhausted me. Now I have no idea if we will ski in heaven, but if we do, our knees won't hurt, we won't get cold, the snow will never be icy or slushy, and maybe my glorified body will have an internal GPS that will keep me on the right trails.
We skied down a couple of runs together this morning, and then I needed to go get my headband, so I told them to go on and I would see them later. I headed down the mountain by myself. Now this will be no surprise to anyone who has ever skied with me, I got on the wrong trail. I am the world's worst person to follow a trail map. I forget where we are supposed to go and seldom am the person who leads, but today since I was by myself, I was my own leader. I ended up on a lift that I hadn't ever seen before, but it turned out to be a great experience. The part of the mountain that I was on was empty this morning, so I was just skiing down the runs, minding my own business when a squirrel ran right out it front of me. I ran smack dab over his tail without a witness in sight. It was a serendipitous moment for both of us.
I'm reading the new book called, Heaven is for Real; many Christians doubt stories like this, and that's ok with me, but since I have a son in heaven, I'm hungry for information about this place. The little boy who visited heaven tries to describe the colors that he saw. I couldn't stop thinking about that today as I was worshiping the nature surrounding me. The sky was bluer than normal, the snow was pristine white, the evergreens were rich green, the people skiing are wearing the colorful coats, hats, etc. It was almost too much for me to take in. I'll use that as the excuse for getting on the wrong trails. Sadly, it wasn't only once. I spent about two hours this afternoon skiing blue runs (my 56 year old knees prefer easier greens) because I kept taking the wrong trails.
Tonight I'm exhausted. I've had my shower and am about to read a little and go to bed because the wonder of God's creation exhausted me. Now I have no idea if we will ski in heaven, but if we do, our knees won't hurt, we won't get cold, the snow will never be icy or slushy, and maybe my glorified body will have an internal GPS that will keep me on the right trails.
Saturday, January 8, 2011
Confession
I have a confession to make. For the past two years and four month, my prayer life hasn't been what it should be. Prior to Jason's death, I started most days by reading a passage of scripture and writing a prayer in my journal. Since his death my prayers have been sporatic and inconsistent. If someone asks me to pray for him/her, I'll do that, but that's not enough. Prayer should be daily communication with my heavenly father. Prayers shouldn't be just asking for something; prayers should also be praise, adoration, thanksgiving, and confession.
If you go back and read my journals prior to Jason's death, you will see that daily I asked God to protect my children--physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When Jason died in a car accident, I guess I lost the portion of faith that I needed to count on God to protect my children. Has God protected them anyway? Yes, He has. They are both doing well. Does that mean it is useless for me to pray because they are blessed whether I pray or not? I don't think so.
I don't know if it is the beginning of the year resolutions or if I just reached the amount of time since Jason's death that I'm doing some self-examination, but I've started my prayer journals again. One of the reasons is that I'm reading a book called One Month to Live. At first I thought the topic would bother me, but instead it has made me think about the legacy I want to leave behind for my kids. It is very important for me to send the message loud and clear to them that my faith in God remains strong. How will I do that if my journal ends with Jason's death?
Therefore, I will journal my prayers again. I still won't go back and read the old journals yet, but someday I might.
The most important prayer I prayed was for God to take care of Jason spiritually. He answered that prayer because today Jason's life continues in eternity. Thank you, God for answered prayer.
If you go back and read my journals prior to Jason's death, you will see that daily I asked God to protect my children--physically, emotionally, and spiritually. When Jason died in a car accident, I guess I lost the portion of faith that I needed to count on God to protect my children. Has God protected them anyway? Yes, He has. They are both doing well. Does that mean it is useless for me to pray because they are blessed whether I pray or not? I don't think so.
I don't know if it is the beginning of the year resolutions or if I just reached the amount of time since Jason's death that I'm doing some self-examination, but I've started my prayer journals again. One of the reasons is that I'm reading a book called One Month to Live. At first I thought the topic would bother me, but instead it has made me think about the legacy I want to leave behind for my kids. It is very important for me to send the message loud and clear to them that my faith in God remains strong. How will I do that if my journal ends with Jason's death?
Therefore, I will journal my prayers again. I still won't go back and read the old journals yet, but someday I might.
The most important prayer I prayed was for God to take care of Jason spiritually. He answered that prayer because today Jason's life continues in eternity. Thank you, God for answered prayer.
Sunday, January 2, 2011
2011
2011--whether you say "two thousand eleven" or "twenty eleven" doesn't matter. The year is here, and with it comes all the "new year" thoughts and feelings. I don't make many resolutions any longer. I've become cynical because I know that I don't keep many of them. I've started a diet because I don't feel very well at my current weight. It is no longer about looks for me; I just want to feel good, and I think I will feel better with some weight off.
We're going skiing in March, and I always ski better when I weigh less. Is that a sign of maturity or an admission of reality? The reality is that at 56 years old, I no longer try to get ready for swimsuit season which was always my motivation to lose weight when I was younger. Now I just want to eat healthy so that I will enjoy this life.
2011--puts us one year farther away from the last time I saw Jason. He was here in July 2008--it doesn't seem possible that it has been over two years since I saw him or spoke to him.
With all of the other people whom I have lost in my life, a certain time after their deaths I started having dreams about them. The dreams are very real and usually just include them in a family gathering--it's never a one-on-one situation. The dreams don't make me sad because I feel like I just got a little visit from Mom, Dad, Phyllis, or Linda, but I haven't dreamed about Jason much. I wonder what the psychology of that is. Maybe it would be too painful for me, so my mind won't let me go there.
2011--what will it bring? I've quit guessing or predicting. Life is going to happen. I'm just along for the ride.
We're going skiing in March, and I always ski better when I weigh less. Is that a sign of maturity or an admission of reality? The reality is that at 56 years old, I no longer try to get ready for swimsuit season which was always my motivation to lose weight when I was younger. Now I just want to eat healthy so that I will enjoy this life.
2011--puts us one year farther away from the last time I saw Jason. He was here in July 2008--it doesn't seem possible that it has been over two years since I saw him or spoke to him.
With all of the other people whom I have lost in my life, a certain time after their deaths I started having dreams about them. The dreams are very real and usually just include them in a family gathering--it's never a one-on-one situation. The dreams don't make me sad because I feel like I just got a little visit from Mom, Dad, Phyllis, or Linda, but I haven't dreamed about Jason much. I wonder what the psychology of that is. Maybe it would be too painful for me, so my mind won't let me go there.
2011--what will it bring? I've quit guessing or predicting. Life is going to happen. I'm just along for the ride.
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