Skip to main content

Job Transfer Collateral Damage

One of the great blessings I've enjoyed over the past few years is that I worked at a school that provided a daycare for the young mothers. Additionally, for an hourly fee, faculty and staff could bring their children. I worked at that school from the day I threw up for the first time (signalling my pregnancy and setting the precedent for an unfortunate condition called "hyperemesis" - all four pregnancies, thankyouverymuch) to one year after my youngest child did not need daycare thanks to public school. 

Within a couple of years of working at this school, we had a dramatic department turnover. One of the best decisions we made was to interview a retired counselor from Arizona who just couldn't get enough BYU blue and moved closer to the Cougars. We were immediately charmed and I was fortunate to work with him for many years as a colleague and a dear friend.

Robert also invested in a high quality Santa suit and pulled it out every Christmas season to play his part, going classroom to classroom and spending as much time as he could with the children in daycare, reaching into his big red bag to pull out candy canes and presents.

I happen to have a scrapbook's worth of photos of Santa scaring the daylights out of my children. One in particular is of my pretty little Alyssa, sitting primly yet warily on his lap, her sister, Samantha screaming in terror and leaning away from him while a pregnant me is trying to scoot as close as possible for one Kodak moment. I'm too tired to dig it up but it's a beaut.

Robert went through 3 bouts of cancer that spanned over 25 years. His signature response to "How are you?" was a witty quip, "If I were any better, I'd be twins!" 

His last year playing Santa, I painted his cheeks with a rosy color and quietly noted his pale skin. He was finishing up another round of chemotherapy. I questioned if spending time in a room with snotty nosed kids would be such a fine idea with his compromised immune system. His wife, Diana, laughed at me when I raised the question. He wouldn't miss playing Santa for a measly dose of chemotherapy. He merrily laughed off my concerns and Ho, Ho, Ho'ed down the hall.

Robert died last year, only one month short of his yearly Santa Pilgrimage. 

I don't think he left his Santa suit but my other former colleague dug one up and recently emailed me to let me know the tradition is carrying on. 

In honor of the previous school Santa, I found some pictures that were easy access that make me smile. I hope you will smile, too.

*The author would like to to proudly note that she did not cry a single tear while putting this post together. In fact, she is still grinning goofily despite missing her friend, Santa. Who can look at those pictures without a smile spreading across their face?

You're smiling, aren't you. Yeah. You are.


Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

How To Be A Dedicated Neurotic

Going through old files from graduate school, I found an invaluable pamphlet. Be a Dedicated Neurotic Remember the Past. . . and Regret it. Abhor the Present. Dread the Future. 1. Become preoccupied with the body, and make a long list of symptoms. Make them sound very clinical and professional... 2. BLAME your boss, your spouse, your partner, your neighbor, your kid. THEY are responsible for your miseries. 3. Feel trapped. You couldn't possibly declare your own independence without hurting someone's feelings. 4. Overeat. Rationalize and eat! Eat an insulated wall around yourself. Diet for a few days and say it doesn't work for you. 5. Self-pity. No matter what, feel sorry for yourself. Agonize over things about which no one cares. 6. Don't ever try. That way nobody can really accuse you of failure. You can always say, "But I could have done it." 7. Stress how shy you are. Insist that the world must come to you. You're special. 8. Your agg...

Pioneer Trek

Utah was founded by the Mormon pioneers in 1847 after enduring unimaginable losses and seeking a place of peace. July 24th marks the anniversary that the first wagon trains arrived in the Salt Lake Valley. Their numbers were greatly diminished by crossing the country in wagons and handcarts, dying of scurvy, tuberculous, malaria, starvation, unidentified fevers, and freezing to death. This, they found preferable to facing the extermination order put forth by Governor Boggs of Missouri. I believe this is the most courageous act of faith - to leave all they had that was familiar and travel the rough terrain in the unknown in search of a place where they could worship in peace. My daughters left this morning for a small re-creation of what the pioneers experienced. I don't love the idea since I know so many of the pioneers died but it is a way for many of the youth to connect to their ancestors and understand what many of the early members endured for their faith. The youth were asked...

Public Notice

Dear friends, neighbors, enemies, and people I don't know: Understand that it all started out very innocently. I planned my garden carefully. Everything had a place and plenty of room. Within my planning, I included three spaghetti squash plants, two yellow squash and two zucchini. Out of the 7 plants, two came up and they weren't my beloved spaghetti squash. This year we have added two grow boxes to the south side of the house. One of which we brought in a garden mix of soil and I planted neat little rows of seeds. The other was left untouched. All I saw was dirt. So I started pushing squash seeds into it. I don't even know what kind they are. When they came up, I transplanted them so they would have room to grow. I also noticed I had two squash plants (pumpkins, perhaps?) growing in the main garden that I hadn't planted. Apparently, I had also dropped a seed in the dirt outside the grow boxes and it's coming up as a squash plant, too. Last count, I hav...