Williams Family: The Years That Nearly Broke Me

 

At the moment you are experiencing something you have no idea what is to come; only what has come before and led up to this moment. If I had known at any given moment early in the happenings what lied ahead, I might have given up. Thank goodness for friends, family, colleagues, and neighbors who helped. 

2015 to 2022 was tough.  A friend told me once that if she were going through what I was going through she would be curled up.  There were times I was curled up, catatonic.  And, there were times I was spittin' mad.  The husband said it all made me stronger. 

In the summer of 2015, after the school year had ended, I was summoned to the school district's central office.  Because of student achievement of the English Language Learner subgroup I had to be moved to become a principal at another school because of federal legislation at that time. Federal legislation that has since been re-written but you may recall, "failing" schools had to remove administration. I was moved to a school that had more red in the student achievement column than the school I was leaving, but it was the number of years in the red that mattered.  I was off contract (on summer break), students and staff were well into their summer routines. Nevertheless, I packed up my office and moved out in a day while speculation and announcements flurried.  My primary concern, the school secretary, aka administrative assistant.  She had worked with the incoming administrator before and it didn't go well.  What can we do, I asked district leaders behind the decision to move principals.  Nothing.  Well, by October, a new school secretary was needed as my warning went unheard and unheeded.  That August, I took the helm of my 5th elementary school in the district. I had done this before and knew how to make the transition as smooth as possible.  What was new about this assignment was the political arm--teacher association presidents, school board members families working at and attending the school.  This continued for the eight years of my tenure. 

In early October of 2015, our dishwasher sprang a slow leak, seeping into the subfloor of our kitchen and eventually into a portion of our basement.  Insurance company, kitchen upheaval with floor and bottom cabinets removed, mold remediation, cooking in a microwave on a cart, eating off paper plates, and walking in/out of the kitchen through a floor to ceiling plastic sheet described the days that turned into weeks. Our kitchen was put back together between Christmas and New Years. 

Then a sewer back-up in our basement on Thanksgiving 2015 led to a multi-year lawsuit with the city as city staff told me in our garage as their Valcal truck was pumping the sewer lines from a manhole cover in the street, that our home was on a "private sewer" releasing them from any responsibility.  Not the lines from our home to the main lines, but the main lines themselves throughout a neighborhood encompassing multiple streets and homes. The case went to court in August of 2021 and a judge agreed with all the evidence collected including an annexation decree.  The Iowa Supreme Court overturned the ruling citing precedent that courts could not make that ruling and ultimately city officials had to make the determination, a route that was taken first with pleas to city council members to no avail.  It felt like being betrayed by a city I had called home for the majority of my life. 

We spent Thanksgiving weekend hauling the contents of our basement into a dumpster in our driveway.  Thankful for help from friends and neighbors. We joked how it was a good thing the new kitchen floor hadn't been installed yet as we lugged damaged items up the stairs, through the kitchen, and out the back door to the dumpster. Special cleaning, and more mold remediation, this time on our dime. The deep freeze, heater, and washer made it through, but a new water heater and clothes dryer were necessary. 

This issue has resurfaced recently, and the city repaired a sewer issue on a line that one of their city department heads, who was fired in 2023, told the public, city officials, and court officers was not city's responsibility. Glad the city is taking responsibility for the sewer lines--now. 

2017-2020 a school district central office administrator who attempted more than once to admonish. I wasn't the only one in the rifle's site and shots fired worked on others who left the district. I fought back and supported others fighting back; offering advice, protective stances, and moral support. The supervisor directed others to fire shots at me and others, as if this wouldn't be evident. In December of 2019, with the help of a county attorney, an emergency injunction from a judge, and a full court press from the press, the last attempt to admonish failed and the supervisor moved on to another school district in June of 2020, was eventually demoted, then moved on to another school district. 

There were times during this central office administrator at the helm, I was told I was changing positions.  Even fielding a phone call when I was about to board a cruise ship in July, telling me I would be at a different school the next month. Upon disembarkation, another phone call revealed that was incorrect and in fact, I would principal at one school full time and another school part time, shared with another colleague.  The next summer when asked by this person where I was vacationing, I said, "I'm not telling so that I don't get a phone call telling me my position has changed." Then there was the time I was told I was moving again, this time to be a principal at a middle school.  I negotiated salary, personnel, then was told no to those negotiations.  Then, I said no.  Do you know the scene in Baby Boom when Diane Keaton's character declines the buy out offer for her baby food production company?  Well, that was my Baby Boom moment.  As I got in my car after the meeting, I called a colleague, knowing they were next in line so that they, too, could say no.  And, they did.  The administrator who took that position ended up with a salary $40,000 more than what I had negotiated, and the schools closed down in March due to Covid-19. Cha-ching to that individual!  In the first week of March of 2020 as talk of quarantining cruise ship passengers upon return circulated, this central office administrator said to me at the end of an admin meeting, "You're going on a cruise for Spring Break, right?"  I could see the look of glee in the thought of the husband and I being quarantined for two weeks without pay along with any other staff.  My response was no, headed to Walt Disney World.  Of course, we didn't make it as the world shut down the next week. 

During the last of the supervisor's reign, I was prescribed medication, which I took to help with the most difficult days (mostly nights) and saw an Employee Assistance counselor who recommended I get another job. No other strategies--quit and find employment. 

Since that time, I faced one other "hit man" who had me in tears after a day-long meeting due to disrespectful remarks and interrupting me when I spoke.  While I was stunned with the behavior displayed towards me in the meeting, so were my colleagues.  After another interaction and inappropriate remark, I stood my ground during a fierce conversation. When the husband and I retired from the district, this same person was in charge of the retirement reception, a reception that I didn't receive an invitation to as it was sent to someone else with a similar name.  Yep, not invited to my own retirement reception hosted by the school district. Thankfully, other honorees shared the invitation.  As a note, since 2022, there have been multiple job changes for this person across districts and most recently was released from a leadership position early.

The "dance of the lemons" is real.  The lasting trauma is real and dissipates with time.  Schadenfreude is real.  Disenfranchisement is real. The universe gives messages like having a court hearing in the morning and closing on your retirement home in the afternoon, having no control over the assigned dates or either. And retirement package offerings when you are ready. Living a full, satisfying life is the best response. 

A Message of Gratitude

It is time to send a message of gratitude into the universe.  The events of the last week or so have proven to me that there is much to be grateful for, even during times of loss, pain, and frustration.  And, appreciation and gratitude can make those uncomfortable feelings a bit more bearable.

I am grateful for my family.  The husband and boy, of course, top the list.  We are definitely a family unit, relying on each other, taking turns being the “rock” or “the soft place to land” when facing situations in the world.  Our extended family comes next, knowing that we can rely on them is a blessing.

I am grateful for our friends. . . near and far.  Their support, understanding, sense of humor, and compassion know no boundaries and for this I am thankful.

I am grateful for our involvement in various community wide activities and groups.  Reason being that it expands our circle of friends and acquaintances and gives us purpose and reason for what we do each day.

I am grateful for the Williams Family Blog readers.  Even though personally, the last few days have been hard, there were others finding great joy in our stories as they planned for magical Disney vacations.

I am grateful for Disney.  (You knew I would get it in there somewhere!)  Our next trip is a beacon of hope; the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel conveying us forward.  A few weeks ago, we were talking about the countdown to our next trip, and the husband said we would have to get through a lot of "#&*%" between now and then.  Little did he know!  I chided him in the last few days about putting that particular sarcastic message into the universe as it came back even bigger than we could have known at the time. 

As we were driving to my mom’s memorial service yesterday, the husband’s mom, Carol, and I were talking about our “unusual” passion for Disney.  Okay, unusual for her, I get that.  I told her how a colleague of mine had scoffed when she learned that 10,000 people apply to be Disney Mom’s each year with a comment of, “You mean there are 10,000 other crazy people like you?”  That, the mother-in-law understood.  I also said 32 million people travel to Walt Disney World every year, so I am definitely in good company.  That she got, it is just that we have a handful of “Disney friends” nearby.  One was jogging by our house the other morning when the husband was walking the dog and turned around in mid-jog to inform the husband that they were leaving today.  I can imagine the joy and anticipation that person was experiencing!  We are definitely not alone in our passion for Disney even if our family and close friends don’t “get it.”

The comforting messages continue to flow into our hearts and home.  And, it is with gratitude that we move forward on our journey with the simple, yet powerful, thank you.

My Mom--A Tribute

My mom’s journey on earth has come to an end as she passed Saturday early in the afternoon.  Her husband rethought his decision to wait until Monday to remove care and I was supportive of his decision.  He didn’t want to see her suffer any more and I agreed.  And, while I wasn’t there for her, him, or me, I was at peace with the decision.

My mom came from humble beginnings, raised in a house with a dirt floor basement.  She witnessed indoor plumbing come to her childhood home.  Playing cards, smoking, and drinking were family past times.  Playing cards, fiercely, I might add, has carried on to this generation.  She was taught that even if you were poor you could still be clean. . . with something about the price of a bar of Ivory Soap that could be used on your body, hair, and clothing.

I watched her in two marriages, three careers, and a college degree.  She graduated from college the year I graduated from high school proving to me that it is never too late to learn.  It used to frustrate me that it took her 45 minutes to buy a loaf of bread at the grocery store as she stopped to talk to everybody—she had either done their hair, cleaned their teeth, or taught their child—and sometimes it was more than one of those. 

I don’t know if was the time working at the dentist office or the cost of braces, but I couldn’t leave the house without hearing something about being careful of my teeth.  As I watch my son play soccer as a goalie and land on the ball while others are still kicking I can’t help but think the same thing.  It makes me smile when I realize that I’m thinking it as I know a part of her is with me.

She had an eye for style and design and I was taught at a young age that your socks must match the rest of your clothing; even better if your socks matched your sweater and your headband—thanks to her friend Phyllis.  Then there were the craft years—macramé, crochet, knitting, cross-stitch, card making, etc.  I have many fruits of her labors.  Decorating went from baskets to P. Buckley Moss with an affinity for watermelons and snowmen.  She once told me that she wished she could buy things when she saw them that reminded her of other people’s desires and collections. 

My mom knew the value of a dollar and taught me to never pay full price for something that could go on sale.  This is something my family knows all too well as I can put my hands on the one shirt I did pay full price for and so can my husband.  She did enjoy hearing about other people’s shopping endeavors, though. 

Her fears and weaknesses became my strengths.  Her mom didn’t drive, and my mom wouldn’t drive on highways, freeways, or after dark.  I can say that I have driven on multi-lane interstates in Indianapolis, Cincinnati, Minneapolis, Dallas, Houston, and throughout Iowa.  The cycle has been broken!

I told her on the phone that my “boys” were going to a Scout campout and I was going to have the house to myself.  She asked if I was going to be afraid to be home by myself.  That was her story, not mine.  I reminded her of all the years I lived alone and how I was looking forward to having the house to myself, even though I did sleep better the next night when my family returned.

As her physical world became smaller due to her illness, her mental world stayed beyond the confines of her bedroom as she took an interest in everyone’s activities via phone or visits.  While she couldn’t enjoy eating she watched cooking shows with great interest often sharing recipes or ideas.  I will miss the phone not ringing at 6:30 on Mondays for our weekly chat.

Eventually the morning tear stained pillow cases will lesson as the pain of her loss subsides.  I know she is in a better place with no pain, sickness, or fear.  And, as I understand, she has been given a job to do by her friends.  I know she is now dancing with the stars.

Hard Lessons

My mom at our wedding--healthier times.

Faithful readers, I’m taking a time out. . . not from writing and posting, but from writing about Disney.  My heart is heavy with grief and sadness and those are the words coming to the page as writing typically brings me joy and now it is bringing me comfort.

I’ve often joked that there is a “book in me” meaning that someday I would write a book.  The title and front cover are clear in my head as are the opening lines and at least the “foreword.”  Interesting that I would compose the “foreword” before the rest of the book. . . And, while 700 plus blog posts don’t come anywhere near a book, it is a start.  The events of the last few days have propelled the notion of writing a book even farther.

You see, my mom has been very sick for a very long time and her most recent trip to the hospital and ICU will be her last.  He unresponsive, coma like state with no course of treatment is making for the tough decision of pulling her from life support.  I’m ready and so is my brother, but her husband wants to “buy her another day” and prolong the inevitable; hoping for some sort of miracle.  I tried to explain that even a miracle would not improve the quality of life for her as she was already living with various tubes and intravenous feedings in the bedroom of her home in a weakened state the didn’t allow for much movement beyond the confines of her bedroom.

If you knew me beyond the pages of the Williams Family Blog you would discover that I’m a “getter her done” type of person. Problems have solutions, questions have answers, etc.  So hand wringing and sitting vigil in the hospital are not my favorite things to do—I need and want action, movement, progress.  So, I am moving forward by making service arrangements, phoning friends and relatives, while my mom’s husband waits.

So what is next?  The husband, boy and I will make the 200 mile round trip to the hospital sometime this week-end so that they both can say good-bye.  I’m cautious about the potential ramifications of our soon to be 10 year old seeing his grandmother in that state, but because of her final wishes for cremation, this may be his only time to give her one last kiss.  We’ll play it by ear and follow his lead.

My mother’s husband called for another “team meeting” on Monday to make more decisions.  He needs the command of and audience of the doctors and nurses that have been providing her care over the last two weeks.  A decision will be made at this time to remove her from life support.  The team already indicated that once the tubes and ventilation are removed it won’t take long for her to pass as the vent accidently came out one night and her blood oxygen levels fell to 30% almost instantly.  I would like to be there when she passes.  I want to be a steel magnolia and give her strength and permission to go.  Go to a place where there is no pain, no tubes, no sickness. 

Service arrangements are already made for next week and while I have talked to the funeral home via phone twice in the last few days, it will need to be her husband that meets with them today to take care of the rest of the details with me being able to be reached by phone with any questions.  He did ask me if I wanted to speak at the service.  I gave an honest answer, “I don’t know.”  I do know I have words to say in honor of my mom’s generous life and may attempt to write them in this safe space before speaking them aloud.  I also don’t know where my emotions will be and I need to consider my son who will be at the service.  I was honored by the question and realized that my strength is recognized.

What I want is a shirt to wear that says “treat me gently” for the next few days as the turning of life smoothes out my rough edges and raw nerve endings like a rock tumbler.  I so appreciate being able to write as it is cathartic and healing.

A friend and colleague asked me so caringly the other day what I was doing for me and writing was at the top of the list.  Eating right, sleeping, and spending time with my family doing things I love are also on the list.

As I was making the drive home yesterday from the hospital, I phoned some friends.  Both got the details and nuances of the situation.  And while one was plotting and planning gifts, visits, meals, etc. to the other I was able to say that if there was a plan for a gift (not that I was asking for one, but I just know how they are) that I wanted a gift certificate for a massage in lieu of a plant, flower, or collectible.  The friend I was telling this to completely understood and said life would be much simpler if everyone made similar statements.  I also said that I didn’t want anyone to come—to the service—she laughed and said she knew that request was coming, too.  That’s how friends are. . . you know them well enough to predict how they will respond and they know that about you, too.  I am very grateful to have such good friends!

Since the title of my only imagined book is “Hard Lessons” I’ll conclude this post with a lesson learned thus far. 

People make it about them.  (Even me!).  Whatever the “it” is. In this case, my mom’s illness and inevitable death has become the “it” and when people are informed they make it about them.  I heard about medical procedures, knee replacements, general uncomfortable feelings in “situations like this” or not knowing “how one should respond”, when making contact with my mom’s friends and family yesterday.  I just listened and ended up telling them how sorry I was for their troubles and releasing them from any guilt they might have.  Maybe it is the fact that the news, situation, etc. are troubling and some humans aren’t as equipped to handle uncomfortable feelings or situations as others.  Just knowing that is how most people are going to respond to “it” makes for less disappointment or hard feelings.

Teaching and modeling for our son how to respond empathetically is a goal and he is well on his way!