Twenty Years Ago: January 2004

I was surprised by all the ways that January 2004 was similar to January 2024. It was quite different, of course, but the similarities showed how things had not changed. While this reflection on twenty years ago has been a wide-eyed tour of the past, it also shows how my present is still connected to that long ago time. 

I laughed when I described our return from vacation as, “mildly overwhelming” because I was feeling the same thing after I got off the plane with my twenty-something children and my aging eighty-something parents. 

Similarly, the entire family spent a few days, “bubble headed” then and now. We got home and everyone went to sleep, even though it was 7am. Some of us took longer to get back on Central Time – the same someones as twenty years ago. 

We arrived home exhausted and, as I went to bed, “I was so tired last night that when I tried to read, the book kept slipping from my hands.” I had napped earlier but it didn’t matter at all. We were pooped! 

Twenty years ago, my daughter got a stomach bug as we got home from vacation. The same thing happened this year. However, this year, she had to suffer on a plane back to D.C! I felt guilty that I could not nurse her the way I did in 2004. 

Fortunately, unlike 2004, none of the rest of us caught that bug. In 2004, it went through the house like that nauseating montage in the movie version of The Secret Life of Dentists. In 2004, we also shared colds; not doing that this year.  

I laughed out loud when I referred to, “The ladies of the morning;” my mother, my wife’s sister, and my wife’s aunt, who would always call us before 8am. While that no longer happens, my wife and daughter have a morning call routine now. 

As it was in 2004, I returned home and I almost immediately planned the next trip. Then it was a spring break visiting my cousin in Florida back then, this year, it is little jaunts, local science fiction conventions, and a February escape. We no longer celebrate spring break. 

January remains a month of dental visits for most of us. While we no longer have a dog, my daughter’s dog had his dental visit, too. He is in much better health than our elderly ailing dog was in 2004. I was considering doggie diapers, the insulin was so ineffective. 

When my parents moved recently, I found a disc with old photos. My father took photos of the house in 2004 for insurance purposes. Most of the house looked pretty much as it did before they moved. 

That is where the similarities end. In 2004, we had some significant snowfalls, the water main broke and we had no water for a while. The furnace’s pilot light went out and we spent a very cold evening before we figured out the issue. We saw The Lion King with the folks and the kids. It was a little much for our younger child. 

As I have written about in the past, our school moved finals before winter break a few years ago. In 2004, we had two weeks of class then finals, and then the start of the new semester. That makes things more stressful. I do not miss all that grading! I would sit in my younger child’s room and try to get on the school network since the school was just over the fence. Sometimes it worked. 

I often told the story that my parents complained that their grandchildren always used “please” and “thank you” with them. I didn’t know my reply was exactly twenty years old, “At dinner, when my father made his please-thank you comment, I informed him that we were making a special rule just for him. Where the kids normally said, “please,” they would instead say, “now” or “darn it” and instead of “thank you,” they would say “finally” or “it’s about time.”

My daughter made the school spelling bee. I really don’t like spelling bees.  I rehearsed and then officiated a bat mitzvah since our congregation had not yet hired a rabbi. Like this year, the end of the month brought snow and brutal cold. 

Finally, “I was awakened at 1:55am by a  phone call telling me that the folks alarm had gone off and should they send the police? At that time of night, I thought it best to have the police go look around. However, if the problem was something inside, a burst pipe or other problem, they wouldn’t see it. I needed to go to the house. So I got dressed, bundled up and off I went.” Fortunately, that situation has not happened often. My parents just moved out of that house and now live only ten minutes north of me. 

If you ask me what were the highlights (or lowlights) of January (or February) of 2004, I probably could not have provided many specifics. When I read my old journals, it come back powerfully. Things have changed so much, mostly for the better, but I miss when my kids were little and my parents were younger. I do not miss the frenetic and stressful life we lived in 2004. 

Twenty Years Ago: April 2003

April 2003 was a mixture of familiar and foreign. I started my journal by discussing an episode of This American Life. Not only do I vividly remember this particular story, but I had recently listened to it! 

My journal was punctuated by anxious dreams. I dreamed that, “I was going to summer camp and they were making us go through some kind of medical checkup that I didn’t want. They were going to ‘open up our heads.’” I dreamed about picking the wrong waffles, being overwhelmed with bnai mitzvah prices, having my hotel bathroom taken over by a stranger, and being on crutches on an army ship! 

I wrote about relishing quiet and slow mornings (one of my favorite parts of retirement), making lots of lists (I noted that, “I live on lists”), and struggling with the change from daylight saving time (“That lost hour counts!”). April was still hardly spring; in 2003, it began with a snowstorm! 

Even at a young age, my kids were themselves, “Quinn enjoyed her day at the zoo. She is great. Jonah is so happy, he literally bounces into the room. These kids are fantastic.” They still are! 

My life was hectic and phenomenally full, “There is a great deal to do between all the projects: StageWrite, Road Rally, Humanities, Peer Helping, Confirmation, and just teaching, parenting, and day to day stuff. Stop! Don’t want to freak myself out!” And that list wasn’t even complete! My daughter had several x-rays and doctor visits, I was returning to school in the evening for SEED class and special events, the homeowners association, and Friday night services. Oh, and I signed up for an adult Hebrew class! 

Yet, my enthusiasm for teaching was powerful, “Each job is different, I suppose, but I happen to think that I have the best one around: I do good – and do well. I have seasons. I am always learning and helping others to grow. I work for the good guys.”

Over spring break, I prepared for the class I would teach in the fall. I used quite a bit of that precious downtime to grade and prepare for my current students – and I started a summer to-do list dominated by professional tasks. And I got another cold! 

There were school challenges. The return to school after spring break was like diving into a cold pool. I had a student who was unhappy with the B he earned on his essay. We scheduled a meeting to go over the essay and he brought his mother to it! I struggled with getting my website updated. All materials that I gave to students on paper were available online. This is typical today, but in 2003, very few teachers did this. 

I used the computer regularly in the classroom for learning activities. We didn’t have projectors in classrooms, so I had to get the C.O.W., the computer on wheels. The English cart was called the Literary COW or L.C. for short. 

I dealt with a case of plagiarism, made presentations for our writing tutors, proctored the state testing, facilitated the display of the Names Memorial AIDS Quilt, hosted classroom observers, and ran a rehearsal of our student performance of creative writing. After I finished the rehearsal, I thought to myself, “I can’t believe I used to do this every day!” I was so much younger when I was directing plays: Ha! 

The school selected one of my schedules! However, they also chose to begin the day twenty minutes earlier, which flies in the face of the research about teens and sleep! The staff member who spoke to the staff was a coach in favor of starting earlier. It would be great for outdoor sports. I created a two-sided chart to explore both sides of the issue and even wrote a thesis arguing against an earlier beginning to our day. I lost. Sports' needs usually win. 

April brought Passover, touch-a-truck, my daughter’s birthday party, the start of softball, homeowners association meetings, and lots of rain. I noted, “I feel drained. Tired. I know this is the normal Friday feeling but this has been a very full week and a very full day. Each day, my pocket list was overflowing. My list for the weekend is longer than it usually is.” I reminded myself, “I think I can, I think I can.”

My father and I got into a heated “discussion” about the Iraq war at our Passover seder. I resolved to get rid of my Windows computer at home and buy a Mac. I was stuck with the “pieces of c” at school. 

Yet, April was a typical month – then. I am delighted that my life has slowed down now. 

Twenty Years Ago: March, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

If February was busy, then March 2003 was a five-ringed circus. I didn’t sleep through the night even when I was taking nighttime cold medicine. I spent much of the month recovering from a cold. It was snowy and cold and winter got its last licks in during its final month. “I think my body is falling apart,” I wrote. 

My daughter had orthodontist and pediatrician appointments, x-rays of her adenoids and wrists, violin lessons, and a performance of the baby scene from Free to Be You and Me for a school gifted program event. She planned her birthday party and, when I questioned one name on her invitation list, I told myself to, “back off.” She brought home a hat she made at school that said her new year’s resolution was to stop yelling at her brother. She yelled at her brother? When? 

We celebrated my son’s fifth birthday with a play party at the park district. Since he was getting ready to go to kindergarten, he had a marathon of inoculations at his yearly March physical and it felt like a reward (or punishment) for recovering from all his illnesses of the prior month. 

I kept track of all my appointments on my Palm Pilot, needed to replace the phones that were installed in our cars, and watched shows recorded on VHS tape on our VCR when I worked out in the morning. 

“I am the human pinball.” Often my schedule wedged my home, school, and parenting responsibilities into a small space. I wrote about finishing class at 12:15 and rushing to volunteer at the book fair at the elementary school and then returning to the high school for an afterschool meeting, coming home and cooking dinner before leaving for Shabbat services in the evening. On the weekend, we attended the school’s musical, attended a community workshop, took my Sunday school students on a field trip, and had families over for pizza and play.

I wrote that, “School is the simple part of my life.” Yet, the more I read, the less simple school seemed. I met with the Peer Helpers in the morning, taught two or three classes a day, was assigned a new teaching partner to co-teach an integrated social studies-English class for the next year, drafted on to a “think tank” to work on the new daily schedule, and moved toward performance of our creative writing event, called Stage Write. School had a lockdown drill I said I was, “overstuffed to the max.” 

As part of our congregation’s steering committee, I attended interviews and other events to hire a rabbi. We met the man who would become our rabbi this month. He did a Shabbat service and I drove him around the area. My wife felt that we should move quickly to hire him or another congregation would snap him up! I noted that I was the youngest member of the Steering Committee. Now, I am one of the oldest and most senior! 

In the middle of the month, we declared war on Iraq because President Bush believed Saddam Husain had weapons of mass destruction. My father and I saw this very differently and had some passionate discussions about it. 

I was planning trips for spring break and the summer. My wife’s mother was struggling and required a great deal of care and attention. She had an infection, then an allergic response to the medicine for it, and the doctor struggled to locate an alternative treatment. My folks returned from a vacation, were home for a week or so and then left on another one. Once again, I watered plants, fetched mail, and got groceries for their return. 

“Running, running, running. Lots to do and little time.” I went to my professional development class, SEED several nights throughout March, tried to figure out how to grade student journals without commenting on everything; we had clogged toilets, trips to the train station (to just watch the trains go by), and several dinners at Sweet Tomatoes. 

Yet, when things slowed down occasionally, I wrote, “I love lazy and slow mornings when we can get them.” Spring break was a chance to do just that, although I reminded myself to “use it well.” 

“Spring is here and summer is quickly being planned. Zoom, zoom, zoom.”

Twenty Years Ago: February, 2003

I am reflecting on my life twenty years ago by reading my daily journals. Click here for an introduction. 

February 2003 was the opposite of my life today as a retired empty nester. Although my overall tone in February of 2003 was optimistic, positive, and happy, it seems stressful and overscheduled from 2023. 

February 2003 began with the space shuttle Columbia exploding at liftoff and ended with the death of one of my heroes, Fred Rogers. My young son struggled with fevers, stomach bugs, rashes, and colds all month. Was it because I registered him for kindergarten?

During February, I was on a school committee charged with creating a new daily schedule. I created a wide variety of schedules including an eight-period schedule across six-period days so two periods dropped out each day. By the end of February, we chose this model and began to figure out how to implement it. 

I juggled teaching, parenting, volunteering, and other responsibilities. I had after-school department meetings, assemblies, classes split by the lunch periods, observers in my classroom, and meetings with my clubs. Yet, I noted that my students “were AWESOME” and days, when my classes were uninterrupted, were “joyful.” 

The pace was the opposite of my life today: I sent one child to school, and the other was either at preschool or with a caregiver. My wife and I left for school at 7 am. I returned around 1 to grade papers and get errands and tasks accomplished. The kids returned at 3. We had the afternoon routine of sports, violin practice, playdates, and park district classes. My wife came home at 4:30 as I was putting together dinner. After dinner (which was always eaten at warp speed), we would turn our attention to homework (everyone’s) and all manner of evening activities. We all plopped into bed early and exhausted! 

My mother-in-law had Alzheimer’s and was living in a care facility in Skokie. My wife visited her frequently. I was highly involved in our congregation, so I had evening meetings at least once a week – and Friday night services. I was also taking an evening professional development class. 

In my journal, I keep telling myself that I can handle it – and that I enjoy it. I think I did, even if reading these affirmations made me think I was trying to convince myself.  I remember those years fondly, even if, when looking back now, they seem chaotically frenetic. 

There were many days when I didn’t feel like a part-time teacher. After class, I often stayed for lunch meetings, conferences or phone calls, or after-school meetings – then I’d return in the evening for my PD class, a performance, or to supervise an event! 

It was also clear how much I depended on my parents’ and my wife’s aunt’s help with our kids. They took them to Disney on Ice, the Museum of Science and Industry, sleepovers, and countless activities. When we had daycare challenges, they stepped up. The positive power of my children’s relationship with my parents was clear, too. My folks left town and my kids complained about the length of their trip. I picked up my parent’s mail, watered their plants, and checked their house. 

My work life was stressful. I doubt that any workplace is without politics, but English teachers are passionate, independent, and value their autonomy. We stormed over curriculum, requirements, personalities, and teaching assignments. Should students be required to give speeches? What was the place of oral communication in the English curriculum? Should teachers be required to teach specific texts? Should all students in a given course read the same texts and have the same core assignments – and how much should they write? I remember teachers being highly judgmental about each other – and some whom I discovered talked a better game than they taught. 

One teacher was very critical of my teaching. She decided that my students were not writing enough. So, I shared my classroom website with her. All of my assignments, activities, rubrics, and materials were available online. I did not hear anything after that. It was more than a decade before that teacher (or most others) posted her classroom activities publicly. Click here to read about my use of a teacher website. 

My journal is filled with thoughts about my work. I scrutinized my choices and reflected on my students’ progress. I was my own biggest critic. For example, I posed these questions for consideration and further writing: 

“What is the balance between writing, literary study, and oral communication? 

How much focus on technology? 

Are there key texts that are pivotal? 

How does our leveling structure pan out post high school? 

How do kids use the skills we have taught in college and beyond?

Are there skills kids need in college and beyond that we have NOT addressed? 

What direction do we get from our long-range plan and Illinois State Standards? “

I got up early one Saturday morning for the College of DuPage teacher fair with our district. I met several very promising candidates, some of whom joined our department. At the end of the day, I spent an entire interview trying to decide if I should tell the young candidate that she misspelled the word, “literature” on her resume. 

I was uncomfortable with the overwhelming number of gifts that arrived at children’s birthday parties. To make matters worse, my kids didn’t really play with most of these presents. In February, I convinced my daughter to take a different approach. My daughter decided her friends should bring presents for kids at Children’s Memorial Hospital instead of for her. Don’t worry, I was not depriving my child of birthday gifts; she got several presents from us that were things she really wanted and were chosen carefully – and her grandparents and great aunt spoiled her thoroughly. In February, she and I sat down and designed her birthday party invitation and did research about what kind of gifts would work for kids in a hospital. 

And we had a violin recital, went to the auto show, had families over for dinner, trips to the doctor, took my Sunday school kids to the Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Bartlett, and celebrated my parents’ forty-third anniversary! 

It will come as no surprise that I got a bad cold and lost my voice as the month ended! On to March! 

Twenty Years Ago Today: An Introduction

Everyone told me when you have children, remember to video record everything – and I did. I have videos of birthday parties, soccer games, trips, class visits, Halloween, and so much more. I compiled these videos into DVDs and made a second set for my parents.

No one ever watches them.

So recently, I watched them. It is both a memory jog and a reminder of who we were, what was going on, and the struggles and celebrations of the late 90s and early 2000s.

Sometime around 2002, I realized that taking still photos would be better than videos. I still took some videos, but I really focused on pictures. That is the advice I would give a new parent. Sure, have a video camera for the game or concert, but take photos. People actually look at those. 

Similarly, I have been keeping a kind of journal or diary for many years in many forms. About the same time I moved to photos, I made a commitment to myself to write every single day. My purpose was to reflect on my day, record my thoughts while they were still in my head, and to think about how one day informed and shaped the days to come. I have written some kind of journal entry every day since. 

I go back to my journals for a variety of reasons. Sometimes it is mere nostalgia, but more often it is to remind myself about a specific person, event, or place. I review my journals about trips when we are returning to those places. I will use my journal as a tickler when I am seeing someone I have not seen in a long time to remind myself about our last meeting. Often, I consult my journal so I can build on my past experience and not simply fall into the same potholes all over again. My journals are a piece of my ever-expanding external memory. 

However, there are huge swaths of my journal that have sat on the computer ignored like those home videos. I decided it is time to look them over, too. So each month, I am going to read my journal from twenty years ago –and sometimes, I will write a ‘then and now piece here. 

Strangely, I can’t find any journals from 2002. I changed computers and I have a large number of files I can’t open. Perhaps some are from 2002. There was a good reason I didn’t write regularly: I was juggling teaching, parenting, and involvement in several community organizations. And I was very young and very busy

I did go back and look at my journals from 1998 to the beginning of 2001. It was embarrassing and powerful, familiar and far away. It was a bit sad and less nostalgic than I thought it would be.  

My first entries are in October of 1998. One of my former students and neighbor had suddenly passed away at college. It was a terrible tragedy and it affected me strongly. 

But the joys of parenting were just as present, my son “continues on his journey to personhood. He is such a personality. He loves strings, wires and anything resembling them. He is fascinated by the VCR. He is so playful and fun. He loves to be sung to. Parenthood is the best thing I have ever done.” 

I complained about the motivational speakers who came to my school, worried about students who were not succeeding, and reflected constantly on my teaching. My tone is so authoritative and confident. I laughed while I read. 

I reflected on a visit to the Museum of Science and Industry with my daughter, she “loved the new Pioneer Zepher train and the animatronic talking statues and mule! She was non-pulsed by the U505 Submarine and the Fairy Castle (which really surprised me). She loved the Omnimax theater presentation of ‘The Mysteries of Egypt’  -especially the fast flight over the Nile. Three times she looked at me and said ‘I really love this, Daddy.’” 

I was very focused on getting my grading completed. I planned when and how many essays and quizzes and projects and debates I could grade. Ungraded work weighed heavily on me. Although, I was a part-time teacher (and a full-time father), but I still had hours of homework! 

There were college recommendations, baby sitters, doctor visits, meals, in-services, clubs, performances, vet visits, and family trips to Florida and California. Traveling with young children is not a vacation. It is a trip – at best. 

So now, as January looms, I will open up journal entries from January 2003. I remember some things about that time. I am sure there will be more I have forgotten. I am not sure what I will find – and if what I find is not worth remembering, you won’t hear from me. 

Twenty years is a long time. We were different people then. Those people share a lot with us today– but we are no longer them. I am hoping that by looking at those old journals, I can learn about where I have been and better understand where I am so I can make choices about where I am going. We’ll see! Read on! 

The Year Concludes: Looking Back at 2020 - Part 4

November started without the kids. This had been my life when I retired, but in March my son came home, then my daughter and her puppy in May. They stayed for more than 100 days and then left together for D.C. 

My children’s phone calls were a mainstay of my day. The boomerang of a full house turning empty wasn’t working for me. I love being with my children. I love being together – and that puppy is joyful! I missed them. 

My son was could look for a job anywhere. He was networking, taking seminars, and doing interviewing – and helping his sister. It was delightful that my children got along so well that they could live together –without their parents- for long stretches of time. I was overjoyed. I just wanted to be overjoyed together. 

At home, things continued as they had for months. I kept walking – just without a dog. I walked with my wife daily and usually took a second walk listening to podcasts. 

Since we were home all the time, the house was showing the strain: the front deadbolt wasn’t turning, the dishwasher died, the light switch in the bathroom cracked, we could no longer use the kids’ shower. 

We were reminded constantly of our fragility by the ever-rising COVID numbers and the parade of passings. It felt like condolences were one of the few things we had in plenty. 

Although the election was at the beginning of November, the discussion about the results dragged on. There were constant cries of fraud without any evidence. I worried that those trying to create alternative election results would bend reality. 

My Sunday Confirmation Class was a port in this storm. My co-teacher and I had challenging conversations with our students about everything that was going on. The kids were eager to wrestle with issues, values, ideas, and especially politics. We had a guest speaker and began to take virtual field trips. 

Thanksgiving was stressful. The kids planned to return and everyone would quarantine and test. The kids isolated in DC, we did the same in Deerfield, and my folks stayed in their home, but everyone had exceptions: doctor appointments, errands of mercy, physical therapy. Beyond the usual Thanksgiving stress, we worried about testing and contagion. 

Since it was just the two of us at home, cleaning the basement moved quickly. I finally got a call from the Illinois Department of Employment Security and filed a police report, contacted the Social Security Administration, the IRS, and changed all of my passwords. It was work to ensure the fraudsters did not gain access to my digital life. 

The election was often a focus. I watched What the Constitution Means To Me. Yet, the controversy dragged on. The president would not concede despite the clear evidence he had lost. It felt like a losing team refusing to shake the winners’ hands at the end of a game. 

We had our last Loyola classes. Our teacher was in Hawaii! We learned with this group for a year and a half, so it was sad to end on Zoom. We are hoping for a reunion when it is safe. I stayed connected to the activities and people at Deerfield High School. I saw a beautiful online choral festival concert, a discussion of the fall play, and a spectacular video holiday extravaganza. 

I was extremely anxious about a dental cleaning. I have rarely been so nervous about anything. Increasingly, I worried that even having six of us together for Thanksgiving was too dangerous. We saw friends on Zoom or FaceTime since the temperatures dropped. 

Friends of many years picked up and moved to Michigan. We attended an online library program with Ibrim Kendi. I sent the woman who cuts my hair a check since I was not going to her shop. I worked hard to stay in touch with friends, family, former colleagues, and others. 

The house was quiet, calm, and very clean, but we were eager for the kids’ return They shipped stuff ahead. Days before they got on the road, my son’s computer died. We talked about backing up and data recovery. 

Daylight saving time gave us a nice extra hour of sleep. We changed all the batteries in the smoke detectors and things were beeping for a week! My wife was feeling much more like herself and we took longer walks despite the cold. 

Finally, the kids returned. I wore a mask when I picked up my rental car and didn’t realize it was a smoking car. It smelled horrible. It was only a few hours to South Bend. It was incredible to have everyone together again. 

Two former students reconnected out of nowhere: surprise blessings. My Confirmation class took a virtual field trip to the Unitarian Church and still wanted to talk about politics. I continued my book clubs, played games with the kids in the evening, and got way too excited about virtual backgrounds on Zoom. 

We had a family discussion via Zoom about Thanksgiving. We defined what were and were not acceptable risks. My son and I were tested at our doctor’s office. My wife and daughter waited in a five-hour line at the Department of Health and their results didn’t arrive until days after Thanksgiving! My folks were tested, too. Great to be negative! 

We slipped into the old routine made new by the weather. Walking the dog was now a colder endeavor, but just as joyous. My son started interviewing for jobs and was getting second, third, and fourth interviews! I organized our annual meeting for our homeowners association. We picked up food from restaurants in Evanston and walked around town. The dog had his own playdates. 

I found a way to let my folks see Zoom calls on their large TV instead of just on their computers, but I couldn’t do it distantly. As Thanksgiving approached, my anxiety grew. Planning the Thanksgiving menu was complicated. We put ingredients on our Instacart orders, got things online, and did our best to prepare distantly. 

I watched Star Trek: Voyager during my morning workouts and Star Trek: Discovery as it was released. These shows were so comforting as the world became increasingly frightening. 

Thanksgiving arrived! My daughter cooked and we assisted. We awkwardly wore masks when we were not eating. It was wonderful to be together. We hadn’t shared a meal this way in months. While we were anxious about COVID, being together was happy and healing. The next day, I went to my parents’ house and fixed all their tech issues. 

In addition to her regular job, my daughter organized a conference on teleheath with her health policy society. The kids and I played Settlers of Catan in the evenings. I continued to tutor, teach Sunday school, and go to online events. I arranged for another distant field trip with a church in Chicago and a Buddhist temple in Michigan. 

My daughter cooked and baked and everything was delicious! I washed lots of dishes! My son’s new computer arrived and he vowed to back up more often. We had another Zoom call with the DHS retirees and created a retiree directory. The dog needed a vet visit for tummy issues. 

For Hanukah, we got my parents virtual tickets to see some music shows. On the first night of Hanukah, all of us visited the Botanic Gardens for a light show. It was great to be together, distantly and outdoors. My wife could now walk through the displays without pain. 

The weather varied from quite cold to warm enough to eat outdoors. My daughter took some time off. We made it vacation-like by ordering in brunch and bringing in a few more dinners. Friends dropped off cookies and latkes, which were special and sweet. We sent notes, gifts, and thank yous. We drove through a neighborhood in Chicago famous for Christmas light decorations. 

Holiday food flooded the fridge. The dog preferred the TV remote. My wife organized a gift drive through the congregation. We had a mountain of presents in our yard! The kids watched West Wing. 

My son signed up for webinars, seminars, and classes as he interviewed for jobs. He made lists of things for an apartment. We hiked in the woods, learned to play Ticket to Ride, and dressed warmly. Our daughter made plans to go back to DC in January. The new dishwasher finally arrived! I started planning the congregation’s twentieth anniversary instead of washing dishes. 

The weather was still in the 20s and sometimes up into the 50s at the end of December, so we met my parents for outdoor walks. We thought that meant winter would be mild; we were wrong! My wife took the family to Rogers Park for a tour of her old neighborhood and stories of her childhood. One the way home, we went through Skokie past my childhood home.

We were Zooming for everything: conversations with friends, Shabbat services, funerals, shivas, and even another reunion of my college science fiction club! I helped a congregation in Michigan discuss renaming. We traveled further from home to try new restaurants. The kids put my daughter’s game console on our TV and played video games together. My wife bonded with the dog by feeding him salmon. My daughter helped her brother with his resume. 

Healthcare folks were getting the vaccine, but I was still very anxious. The COVID numbers were up and yet we saw photos of people traveling. How could they do that? We sent money to our snowplow service because there hadn’t been any snow– until December 29th. 

I was walking the dog when it started snowing. The dog loved it! He kept going outside to catch snowflakes and roll! Snow became a mainstay of his diet. 

My daughter’s work did not let up. Holidays or not, she worked ten-hour days or longer. It was good she was home and we could help her make all the pieces fit. 

As 2020 ended, we were together. I tried not to think about how soon we would be separated. The year ended unceremoniously, but we were healthy, happy, and home. 

The Prologue is Past: Looking Back at 2020, Part 1

No one would have believed, in the first months of 2020, that our world was about to explode. As I looked at my journals and photos from the first three months of 2020, I am shocked. 

For me, the year began on a tropical beach with spectacular fireworks and in the company of my entire family. I could not have been more relaxed or content on New Year’s Day. 

It was my first winter break in retirement. When I returned to the Illinois cold, I connected with friends, family, and former students. I went out to lunches and dinners, took walks, went to shows, and had an intense social calendar. My wife and I were determined to not be the isolated retired folks. 

We had plenty of travel planned. I spent a great deal of time planning our arrangements, especially to go to the weddings of several of our friends’ children and visit our own. 

However, my wife was struggling with severe back pain and could not walk more than a few steps. I did some research and read a book called Crooked. We met with doctors, but her pain increased and her mobility decreased. We scheduled surgery for February. 

I was planning for our younger child’s graduation from Miami of Ohio. In addition to the regular graduation ceremony, he would have a series of concerts. We had been traveling to hear his concerts and knew that these end-of-the-year events featured and feted the seniors. I fussed with getting hotel rooms for the entire family and the best seats at the concert hall. 

At the end of January, our son’s Glee Club sang their way through Florida, so my wife and I played groupies and spent a week following them through the sunny state and escaped the cold. 

One of the many projects my wife and I undertook was to transform our daughter’s room into an office and media room. She now lives in D.C. So we gave away her childhood bunk bed and the furniture we had purchased when she was born, pulled up the bright blue shag carpet, and started the process of creating a brand new space. We refinished the wooden floors and repainted the walls. We were certain that our daughter would never need that room again. Ha! 

We had lunch with a group of retirees from Deerfield High School (DHS) at a local restaurant called Warehouse. It was nice to see everyone. The group was smaller than usual since many people escaped for the winter. We were thinking about how we might join them. 

I spent several days back at DHS assisting the Science Fiction teachers and librarians help students select their free reading books. It was great to talk about literature with kids without the burden of grading. It was so nice to be back in the building and feel the excitement and energy of school. 

I have always been the technical support person for my folks. I installed a new router and booster in their house and replaced their nearly fifteen-year-old wifi system. Just in time! 

I got a call that a DHS English teacher was ill; would I come in to teach one class a day? Suddenly, I was back in the classroom for a while. I could only stay for a few weeks because my wife and I had planned a trip to California. For three weeks in February, I taught a great group of juniors and visited my senior homeroom. I saw my friends around the building. It was like being a grand-teacher. 

My wife had her surgery and we were optimistic. She had a great deal of pain afterward. The doctor emphasized that we should measure progress week-to-week or month-to-month and not day-to-day. However, by any measure, things were moving glacially. 

One of my retirement goals was to learn to cook. My wife and I would select a recipe or two a week, I would make a special trip to the grocery store and get all the ingredients and then I would destroy the kitchen. Sometimes she liked what I created! 

On February 6, I had a haircut. My hair has not been cut since then. It is longer than it is has been in over fifteen years! 

My parents celebrated their sixtieth wedding anniversary at the end of February. They celebrated with a wonderful trip to the big island of Hawaii. They changed their trip so they could be home for my wife’s surgery, and left shortly after it. 

I went to Capricon, a fan-run science fiction convention held in a nearby hotel. It was the most recent in-person convention I have attended. 

We attended dear friends’ daughter’s wedding downtown. It was a big party with lots of people. My wife wasn’t sure she would feel well enough to attend, but she had a wonderful time. It was a glorious and grand celebration.

We were out with friends several nights a week. We celebrated a friend’s retirement from DHS and took her to dinner. We made plans to go to Minnesota for another wedding in the summer. 

At the end of February, we left for a week in San Diego. My wife was still not walking well, but we hoped the warmth would help her heal. We flew out and stayed in an Airbnb near Mission Beach. 

While we were there, our son’s university said that two students from China were ill and were quarantining. They were waiting to see if they had the disease that had become an epidemic in China. 

Shortly after we got to San Diego, my parents called and asked if they should come home early from Hawaii due to the illness in China. They were concerned about getting stuck if air travel was restricted. We dissuaded them from doing this and encouraged them to enjoy their anniversary vacation. 

A friend posted a question on Facebook: if you were traveling on an airplane, would you wear a mask? I replied that I was traveling and I would wear a mask: I was going as Batman. Ouch. 

We followed the primaries and sent in our votes by mail when we got home. We have been voting by mail for years and have never questioned that choice. 

As the weather warmed, I took more walks. I would carry a chair for my wife. We’d walk for a while and then I’d unfold the chair and she’d rest, and then we’d walk a little further. We measured progress by how far she could go. She couldn’t go far. 

In March, my daughter in D.C. brought home a puppy. She had been planning his arrival for months and saving for years. We eagerly awaited every photo she sent of this adorable little ball of fur – and made plans to visit them in April. 

On March 8, My congregation Confirmation Class co-teacher and I took our class and some parents to the BAPS Shri Swaminarayan Mandir in Bartlet. I wondered if anyone would keep their student at home, ask about precautions, or bring gloves or masks. Nope. The trip was healthy and successful and we learned a great deal about Hinduism. It was also the last time class met in person. 

Later that same day, I met my science fiction book club at the Panera in Evanston. This was the last time this group would meet in person and the last time we would meet at that Panera ever – it is now permanently closed!  

The following day, my parents returned from their trip. I had dinner with them in a restaurant nearby. My mother had the salad bar and, only after she returned to the table with her first helping, I realized that a salad bar was a bad idea. I don’t think we’ll see many in the future.  

The author, Neal Schusterman, visited Deerfield High School the next day and I helped with the event. We had several hundred students from the Science Fiction classes gather in the cafeteria to hear him. It was my last time at school; school closed the next day because a parent was exposed to COVID. Was the child of that parent in the program? 

A friend came to dinner on March 13 and I went to Evanston for lunch with a former student on the 14th. No more guests or eating in restaurants since. 

Our son’s university canceled classes and went completely remote. That included those May concerts that would have featured our son. Despite that, he did not want to come home. 

In the midst of all this, I made some photo magnets for my daughter to bring to her work. She had mentioned that lots of people have photos of their families around their desks and she did not. I made them and sent them to her. However, she would not be in that office much longer. 

I had a difficult conversation with my son about coming home. We agreed on a date, I rented a van, cleaned it thoroughly, and drove to Ohio. I stayed one night in a hotel and barely slept because I had sprayed the bed with disinfectant and it smelled horrible! I felt so sad that his college career was ending this way. I stopped at a few places hoping to score some toilet paper. We drove home and classes moved into his bedroom in Deerfield.

A friend caught COVID from her nanny. She became very sick and struggled for months. We heard rumors that a lockdown order was coming. I went to six stores and could not find toilet paper or wipes! 

My daughter’s job was increasingly stressful despite going remote. The puppy was both a wonderful release and an additional burden. She was alone much of the time, even if she met with people outdoors occasionally. 

On March 19, the governor declared a shelter in place order. 

My wife and I started making regular donations to food pantries and other charities. Our family business started making hand sanitizer. I helped my parents learn how to Zoom! 

A friend had her wedding on Zoom. A former student and his wife had a baby. Blessings continued even in this frightening time. 

People who were on their own were clearly struggling. We called them and invited them for a distanced visit on our patio once that was permitted. We had video chats. We started checking in with people every day. We created a pandemic card, like a holiday card, and sent it out. 

More friends got the virus. There were more notations on social media of loved ones who had died or people who were sick. 

We learned to order groceries via Instacart and we would wipe them down when they got to the house. My brother sent us a video made by a doctor teaching us how to do this thoroughly. We disinfected the entire house constantly! 

Our son’s college scheduled a weekend in September to replace the May commencement that they had canceled. I booked hotel rooms. 

At the end of March, I made the note in my journal that I was hoping we would, “get back to normal in dribs and drabs sometime at the end of April or early May.”  2020 was just getting started. 

VHS Time Capsule

Staying at home during the time of COVID has provided me with time to start to clean out all those old things stored in the basement. My family and I have thrown things away, packed up things for donations, and done a ton of recycling. 

Recently, we pulled four huge bins of VHS tapes out of the crawl space. In them were hundreds of recordings of Star Trek and other television shows I adore. I remember watching the first run of each series with a remote in my hand to edit out the commercials. I was certain that these tapes were going to be the way I got to watch these shows again. 

I had carefully labeled every tape. Each one had a list of the episodes inside the cover. I really felt like I was preparing my future viewing. I did not predict streaming services or DVDs. I no longer even own a video cassette player of any kind. 

So why is it so difficult to part with these tapes? 

It is not as if I am going to sit down and use the tapes, even though I do continue to watch much of the content that is on them. I don’t need old grainy analog tapes to do it. For several of the series, I have purchased DVDs that include closed captions and special features. 

The eldest of the tapes date back to the early 80s. My family was one of the last to purchase a VHS machine. I had been recording Star Trek on audiocassettes because listening was the only way I had to experience an episode other than when it was broadcast. So when that first VHS deck came into my house, there was no doubt what I was recording. 

I knew that the episodes I was recording were edited. I was aware that they had a few minutes cut from them for additional commercials, but at the time, there was no alternative. Even when I could purchase store-bought tapes of the episodes (which I did), they were expensive and I bought them slowly and savored each one. 

As I got older, these became my exercise tapes. I would watch them to make working out interesting and take my mind from the sweat and discomfort of riding a stationary bicycle at 5 in the morning. I still watch Star Trek while working out! 

I bought my own VHS recorder as a gift to myself for my college graduation. Star Trek: The Next Generation was being made and I recorded entertainment shows and tried to find any clip or glimpse of information about this new Trek. 

When the show finally premiered, I made sure that I was in front of the TV, remote in hand, for every episode. I recorded each one twice: once with commercials edited out and one with them left in. I am a big believer in backups. 

I did this for a very long time. 

I recorded The Next Generation, Deep Space Nine, The Original Series, and the Animated Series on these tapes. By the time Voyager and Enterprise premiered, my life had become too complex to edit them live. But now I had a host of other shows: Babylon Five, Earth Final Conflict, Farscape, Alien Nation, and even some I had forgotten (remember Seven Days?).  I have not rewatched all of these series, although as I write about them, I am eager to find the services that stream them, even if I don’t know when I will have time to watch all I would want to. 

I know that these tapes are not the way I will now see these shows. I know that there is no problem with throwing them away or recycling them. But doing so feels like losing something special; something that feels both far away and very dear and important. They are a kind of time portal into a distant past which I don’t want to lose. 

The technology may be obsolete, but the feelings and attachments are not. These tapes are mementos of watching these shows broadcast for the very first time. They are relics of a distant time, heavy relics that are taking up lots of space in my basement. Unlike my affections for these shows, basement space is not infinite. I am going to have to come to terms with letting go of these tapes and being content with the feelings they engender when I watch what was on them. 

The tapes did not record my wonder, joy, and delight in these stories and sagas. Those can never be lost! 

Our Town and Our Old Videos: Glimpses into the Past

My first theatre production at Deerfield High School was Our Town. I did it because we had no money and it would include a large number of students. Recently, I have been looking at old videos and photos from my first decade of teaching. They remind me of Our Town.

A few years ago, Deerfield produced Our Town again. I cried my way through it. Similarly, I watched myself about thirty years ago on these videos. I felt like Emily looking at my very distant life.

I found the play and the videos frighteningly familiar. It happens each time I watch shows I have done, and I am surprised each time. The production is still inside me. The moments, lines, and nuances of the script don’t go away. They lie dormant, even for decades. So do the feelings I had for the people with whom I was working. 

I found, as I watched the videos and show, that I saw more than what was in front of me. I remembered the students from thirty-some years ago and saw them then and now. Thanks to the blessing of Facebook, I am still in touch with many of them.

As Emily returns to her birthday, I was returning to my own Deerfield Grover’s Corners. I didn’t need to die to relive my past. But, like Emily, I was painfully aware of how little I saw then.

During the last years of my career as a teacher, I tried to savor the moments.  Since my own children are growing up and no longer at home, the passage of time feels very real. I savor each phone call, text, and video chat.

When Emily sees her parents young and beautiful, I am filled with gratitude and fear. My parents are aging. They are doing it well, but again I am keenly aware of time. My wife’s parents are gone and, through her, I have a second-hand taste of that loss. And my students are aging, too. Their children were in my classroom.

Some of my former students have died. I can’t get over those losses. When one of those students appeared on one of the videos, it was a jarring and delightful moment. I wish I could go back and share with him what I know now. To paraphrase Mrs. Gibbs from Our Town, I was a blind person.

I watch the videos with wet eyes and wonder: Can we be the people the Stage Manager says don’t exist? Can we cherish and see each other every – every minute? Can we put the minutia and administrivia in its place and hold each other the way Emily tries to as she relives her birthday morning? I fully understand why she can’t go on with it. I had to stop the video a few times because the view became too blurry. It must have been decay from the old VHS tapes.

We do walk through the world in the dark. We don’t see each other. We take each other for granted and forget the miracles we make and live daily. The least important day is important enough.

As I reflect on my time as a teacher, as I review the old videos and memories, I keep coming back to Our Town. I am reminded of those years long ago, and the wonderful people whom I miss. That is the hard part of retirement: missing the wonderful people.

But I am so grateful to have spent time with them – and to have these memories.

Take More Photos

I wish I’d taken more pictures. With cell phones, photos have become ubiquitous. Social media encourages us to document everything and share, share, share. And that isn’t all bad. I am not talking about selfies. I am talking about non-selfies. I am talking about what goes on in those moments that are frequently undocumented every day.

I was a classroom teacher for more than thirty-three years. About fifteen years ago, one of my colleagues mused that we spend a significant percentage of our life at work and we have no photos of that experience. From that moment, I started bringing my camera (a REAL camera) to school – even when a camera was also built into my phone.

But I wish I’d done it far earlier. I wish I had photos of my early days. A few are in the yearbook, but I have no candids from my classroom, rehearsals, or meetings. I wish I could see the faces of my students in the late 80s and 90s. I wish I had class portraits of those Theatre, Sophomore English, Television, and my early Freshman English classes. I wish I took pictures of the library and the resource center and even the hallways before they were changed and updated. I wish I had documented my everyday life at school – and the wonderful people with whom I shared it.

While the staff changes more slowly than the students, people come and go. Students move through with regularity, but the personnel around me is constantly shifting. Remember that student-teacher? Remember that wonderful quirky and creative kid? I usually remember. I wish I had a picture, too.

What is it about the picture that validates and strengths my memory? Why is it that I can smell and hear and feel the moment so much more vividly when the image is present than when it is just in my head? And I trust my own memory less and less these days.

I treasure the yearbooks. I treasure the old photos that people post on Facebook. They bring me back and they help me remember and cherish the people I adored. I know there is a mosaic of photos out in the world waiting to be woven together. I wish I had more to contribute to it.

I have heard it said that, by taking pictures, the photographer is not fully present in the moment. I disagree. I find that my camera focuses me on the event (yes, I am aware of the double meaning of focus in that sentence). I am more attentive and aware of an experience because I am photographing it. The camera does not pull me away, it pulls me in! I see more clearly, specifically, and exactly when I am taking pictures. It crystalized the experience.

I became my department’s photographer. I documented the events and changes in the school and in my classroom. In addition to my children’s concerts, shows, birthday parties, and games, I also brought my camera for smaller events and day-to-day moments at home and school. I treasure these photos because they bring me back to the way I felt then.

That is the key. While I do want to document the way the old writing center looked or how my daughter decorated her bedroom, what I am really treasuring is how I felt at that time, in that space, with those people. I am affirming that what we did and who we were had enough importance to warrant memorialization and its influence is lasting.

We are worth remembering. We are important enough to hold on to. Our past matters and frames our present. I wish I had learned that earlier.