Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2013–2014 School Year

Retired

Retirement flowed—a river swift.

We had to exercise some thrift—

But every day remained a gift.

My health had stabilized a bit—

And I was grateful (duh) for it.

I tried to exercise—stay fit.

And Joyce then ended her career—

Retirement was her new frontier.

She wrote each day throughout the year.

And we were in a mellow phase—

Enjoying months and weeks and days.

Our hopes were high—our lives ablaze.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2012–2013 School Years

Retired

And then the news came (knew it would)—

The sort of news that isn’t good.

My cancer numbers, climbing still—

And though I wasn’t feeling ill,

My doctor said, “Due to the climb

I think you know it now is time—

The next step in our therapy.”

I knew what this would mean for me:

Yes, hormone shots—to stop the growth.

The worst effects? I knew them both:

Libido gone, much weariness—

I was depressed (I must confess).

So in July I took the shot—

And soon was feeling very “hot,”

For heat infusions also came—

And nothing, nothing was the same.

But good news, too, while I did mourn:

Another grandson had been born—

His name is Carson, quite a lad,

With quite a mom and quite a dad.

And he’ll turn nine this very spring—

What joy that little lad can bring!

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2011–2012 School Year

Retired

And so it all was over now—

The classes, students, homework that

Compose a teacher’s life—an acrobat,

Of sorts, a teacher is somehow.

I missed so many things at first—

My colleagues, students—just the way

I got to spend each waking day—

From good to bad, from best to worst.

But Facebook very soon became

The way I stayed in closer touch.

I soon just loved it—very much—

Though it, of course is not the same.

I published many book reviews—

And books on Amazon Direct.

(No time, no way I could connect

With publishers—just with my muse.)

My cancer was a ticking clock—

And I just did not have the time

To dabble (yeah, I know: a crime),

So out words went—no time for talk.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2010–2011 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

And so this year would be the last.

I think I knew it, from the start.

And since I knew—the time went fast—

And shudders shuddered in my heart.

I knew that I had other things

That I would do at teaching’s end.

A bird that cannot fly still sings—

And writing had become my friend.

I’d published book reviews—and books—

And knew that this would not stop soon.

I still loved reading—all those looks

Of words—like phases of the moon.

But I would miss those youngsters who

Had formed a great part of my world.

But retirement came! And off I flew—

My future (and my wings?) unfurled.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2009–2010 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

Penultimate—yes, that’s the word

That fits in well right here.

For this would be (as I would learn)

The sunset (my career!).

I loved that year—yes, once again.

The classes, kids, and all.

I knew it from the very first—

The early days of fall.

In fact, I’d planned (before that year)

That I would then retire—

But I enjoyed that year so much

I tossed plans in the fire.

Another year! Yes, sure I can!

I’ll just go on and on!

But Life had other plans for me—

And confidence was gone.

My cancer numbers—up they went.

The freaking thing returned.

And so I once again retrieved

Those plans I thought I’d burned.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2008–2009 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

The cancer rose in me again—

My numbers much too high.

The doctors told me it was time

To radiate—oh my!

So once again I left the school—

In January’s frost—

Drove to the Clinic every day

For zapping—what a cost!

Six weeks of zapping—wore me out.

But numbers really fell.

And once I got my strength again,

I felt, oh, pretty well.

And so it was—that happy spring—

I went back to my life—

Enjoying teaching, family—

All moments with my wife.

“Perhaps it’s gone?” I told myself—

“i’m cured! (Or so it seems.)”

But that, of course, as Time would show

Was one of Life’s fond dreams.*

*In Shakespeare’s English, “fond” meant “foolish.” Hmmmmm.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2007–2008 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

So there I was—again in class!

Right where I wished to be.

And health? Well, I’d hang on, and I

Would see what I would see.

This year flew by—and I had fun

(As I was wont to do).

Oh, Hamlet, Scarlet Letter, and

Great Gatsby (what a crew!).

We memorized some famous lines

From Shakespeare and from Frost,

From Emerson, Millay, and all—

An effort worth the cost.*

Our summers were for travel—so

We drove across this land

In search of authors’ homes (and graves):

Where they were we would stand.

*In my biased view! 

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2006–2007 School Year

Home

Now I’d left teaching—once again.

Was home instead, where I had been.

Too much had happened—could not deal—

Just could not handle what I’d feel.

Mortality is what I felt—

I cursed the cards that I’d been dealt.

So I stayed home to read and write

And be with Joyce—yes, day and night.

But nibbling at my mind—a lot?

The notion that I long had taught—

And (how on earth do I begin?)

I wanted to go teach—again!

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2005–2006 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

Yes, I was back—another year.

Though cancer had created … fear.

And here’s another tale to tell:

Another cancer came, as well.

The summer of 2004–

Oh, just a bit of time before

I got that stunning prostate news—

A year of living Cancer Blues!

A squamous cell—a forehead spot.

The surgeon took it (cost a lot).

But this was all a preview for

The cancer that I feared much more!

But I regained some strength—and felt

That with this hand that I’d been dealt

I could … adapt. And so it was.

I learned what resolution does.

I loved the year—yes, once again.

In ways it was as it had been.

But we had had some splendid news—

The sort you’d love if you could choose:

In February (year before)

We had a grandson we’d adore.

And Logan is the youngster’s name—

He loves his sports—oh, any game!

But best of all? The precious part?

That young man has enormous heart.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2004–2005 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

And now some darkness seeping in.

December. Med exam.

My doctor noticed … something … that

Would alter who I am.

The biopsy was positive—

A new malignancy.

My prostate gland was cancerous.

But not so bad? (We’d see.)

The surgeon said that I could wait

Until the school year died.

And so it was that not till June

Did I at last decide

To have the surgery at last—

Removal of the gland.

It went so well (or so they said)

Let’s give them all a hand!

But then a post-op biopsy

Had other news for me.

They didn’t get it all, it seems:

A deep despondency.

I was determined, very set—

Determined through it all—

That I would still go back to teach

In the ensuing fall.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2003–2004 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

The year began like other years—

A lot of good, some bad—

But then—October—and my face

One day declared it had

Decided it just would not work—

Not right side, anyway.

Bell’s palsy—diagnosis—and

What else can I now say?

The right side of my face just froze—

Not much that I could do.

I saw some specialists, of course,

But when the thing was through

(Or mostly so: It’s never cleared

Completely), I would find

Some issues that would linger on—

The most unpleasant kind.

I took time off from school that year—

Some trouble in my eye,

My right one. After time had passed

(I was a lucky guy),

The thing improved enough that I 

Could go back to my class.

And I was thrilled, to say the least,

To see that dumb thing pass.*

* Some effects linger: drooping right eyelid, and I can’t completely control the right side of my face. Bell’s damages the facial nerve.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2002–2003 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

A part-time year—and I was glad:

Full-time had been too much for me.

I didn’t need more time to see.

I loved the classes that I had.

I taught just juniors from then on—

“A single prep” (as teachers say):

Just one class to prepare each day.

When I looked up—each day was gone.

Among the texts we read each year

Was Hamlet—you have heard of it!

I learned to love it (oh, the wit!)—

And hope I taught kids not to fear

The language of that wordy Bard,

Who dazzles every time I read

Or see his plays. Are we agreed

That, sure, his language can be “hard,”

But benefits flow from the work

That you must do to read his verse

(Like pulling gold coins from a purse!)—

Though he still made some go berserk?

The writing of America

Composed the rest of English III—

And that was so all right with me:

My favorite writers—lovely, huh?

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

2001–2002 School Year

Western Reserve Academy

Back at Reserve—oh, there I was

Where I had been those years ago.*

And I enjoyed it—all because

The kids were great—my life, aglow.

I taught some seniors—juniors too.

And I was busy, dawn to dawn.

And so it was that weeks just flew—

And soon that school year just was gone.

I knew right then that I could not

Teach full-time—oh, no, not again.

I hardly knew what I had taught—

I slept so rarely—now and then.

And so … part-time it had to be

From that year forth. So them I told.

Their  “Yes” came with alacrity.

And I was happy (getting old!).

*1979-81.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

School Year 2000–2001

Retired … but Then …

Another year rolled up to me—

And said, “Just take a look and see—

You’ll be surprised—I guarantee!”

And he was right, that prescient guy—

The life I’d led? Somewhat buh-bye:

Another sort of life was nigh.

A friend at the Academy*

Said there was work (and not for free!),

And I? Not one to disagree.

That fall I once again put on

My “Teacher Clothes”; yes, I would don

The outfits from a life long gone.**

Yes, to Reserve I went to teach—

Can I still do it? In my reach?

Or should I just head to the beach?

But I returned to classroom tasks—

And loved it all (in case one asks)—

Put on again the many masks

All teachers find that they must wear—

In Kindergarten—anywhere!

You mustn’t go to class, well, bare!

*Tom Davis, Eng. Dept. Chair at Western Reserve Academy

**Not.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1999–2000 School Year

Retired!

Oh, yes, this is the year that our family grew—

For our son found Melissa—and knew what to do!

So they married in August—a wonderful day

And flew off then to Paris—a honeymoon stay.

So the next step, we knew, would be grandchildren—wow!

Oh, I never had thought I’d arrive there somehow.

But both Steve and Melissa—in graduate school.

Yes, in nursing and law—oh, their plates were so full.

And dear Mary and I (yes, that’s Shelley, recall?)—

We remained intertwined for the thrill of it all.

And dear Joyce was still teaching—the height of her art.

And I dreaded each second that we were apart.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1998—99 School Year

Retired!

This year brought more of what I loved—

Those reading/writing things.

And travel! I was here and there—

Such pleasure travel brings!

I spent a month in Europe (most

Of April ’99)

Just chasing Mary Shelley’s life—

And watching funds decline!

From England down to Italy—

To Switzerland—and more.

I spent some time in Wales, as well—

Was thrilled down to the core.

Then I came home and studied, and

Began to sort it out—

For that was my main goal, you see—

To figure Mary out.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1997–98 School Year

Retired

I publish one more London book—

A bio (YA type).

But London now was out of date*

And Mary Shelley, ripe.

I soon was purely so obsessed

With Mary and her friends—

I thought: There’s so much I must do—

Her story never ends!**

I worked on Mary every day—

Including Christmas, Yo—

I still had energy to burn—

It couldn’t ever go?!

And we were back in Hudson—

In the house where we still live.

I kept a journal***—time flowed through

As if I were a sieve.

*London was fruit out of date for me—not for the world; I’d spent 10 years with him and his story.

**Proof for this? I’m still working on her!

***Still keeping it, every (damn) day.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1996–97 School Year

Harmon Middle School

The end arrived—and I retired

In January of the year—

Some thirty years since I’d been hired.

My youth would never reappear.

But Mary Shelley, by that time,

Had moved into my writing mind,

And I felt in my writing prime—

So I pursued—what would I find?

I spent most hours every day

At work on Mary Shelley’s tale—

I found I was so pleased that way—

And stayed away from county jail!

I also taught a college class

For Hiram—Weekend College course.

And I enjoyed it (all would pass!)—

But soon I left—with no remorse.

I wanted much more time to read—

To travel, research, and to write.

For now these things fulfilled a need—

And I worked hard to do it right.

And then Joyce found another place—

A place in Hudson she adored.

And so we bought it—now our base—

Our happiness just swelled and soared.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1995–96 School Year

Harmon Middle School

My last full year—incredible!

How swiftly time has flown.

But time exacts a fearsome toll—

I’m weary to the bone.

But I decide I will produce

A final 8^th Grade Show.

I figure that is just about

The best way I can go.

The year soars by on golden wings—

My classes all are great.

And as the end approaches, I

Arrive at such a state

That nearly every single day

I find I am near tears—

I think about those students and

All those special years.

But I am in my fifties now—

Enough for Dr. Dyer!

I know the time is very near—

I know I must retire.

That fall I publish my first book—

An annotated guide

To London’s Call—it’s full of pics.

I look through it with pride.*

*The Call of the Wild by Jack London with an Illustrated Reader’s Companion (U of Oklahoma P, 1995). 

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1994–95 School Year

Harmon Middle School

Retirement looms. Not far from now

But Time just won’t speed up somehow.

I still work hard. I still have fun.

But hear a voice: Oh, soon you’re done!

(I hoped that voice was not so dire

That soon I’d die—not just retire!)

My final years the kids were great—

And gave me cause to celebrate.

To work with them—an honor I

Did not take lightly—I won’t lie.

A writer’s life was calling me—

To do it well I must be free

From all the labor teaching took.

But even then—I had a book

That soon a publisher would find—

And hopes for it just filled my mind.