Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1990–91 School Year

Aurora Middle School

We bought a house—an old one--in

Aurora to be near

Our work and Joyce’s mother, whose

Poor mind was now unclear.

Though Alzheimer’s was killing her,

Aurora had a place

Where she could live in safety and

Adapt to her new pace.

And Joyce’s father passed away--

And nothing could console

Us from that grievous painful loss:

There was no better soul.

And life went on—the teaching and

The laughter and the love,

The late nights grading papers

(You know what I tell of!).

I did an 8^th Grade Show that year—

And once again felt pride

Just seeing all those kids perform—

How hard those youngsters tried!

I knew the end was nearing—yes,

The end of my career.

Oh, I could count—I knew that soon

I’d reach that final year.

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1989–90 School Year

Harmon Middle School

Another year of classes, plays.

An 8^th Grade Farewell Show, of course.

My nights were busy as my days—

Such grading, planning …. Where’s The Force

When I require it, anyway?

This year our son would graduate

From high school. Such a happy day—

Though laced with worry and the weight

Of knowing he would leave our home—

For college, yes—and otherwise.

He was, of course, now free to roam—

To follow what enlarged his eyes.

And Joyce and I were now alone—

The first time since his lovely birth

In 1972. We’d known

Such joy with him—we’d learned his worth.

Years of My Life

1988-89 School Year

Aurora Middle School

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

Another year of several shows—

And why so many? No one knows.

I did, at last, a Shakespeare play—

The Merry Wives—oh, what a day

It was to see that splendid thing—

With such a cast—what joy they bring

Right now as I remember them—

My heart swells up, right to the brim!

I did that show—Aurora High—

Because I’d always wished to try

A play by Will (whom I revere)—

And let me make this very clear:

The kids were great—I was so proud—

And when—the end—they finally bowed,

I felt those tears swarm in my eyes—

In gratitude, as you surmise.

I did two other shows that year—

And Funky Winkerbean—oh, dear,

I had such fun directing that!

An 8^th grade show—a great format.

And then another year was gone—

My day of life was far past dawn …

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1987–88 School Year

Harmon Middle School

This year was very busy: I

Directed four (and varied) shows—

Including Grease (I thought I’d try

A high school show—who knows?).

And three were there at Harmon—yes,

I bit off lots—and tried to chew.

An 8^th Grade Show (you couldn’t guess?!),

Two others that were fun to do.

I also taught my classes, and

Enjoyed a lot of colleague help.

I think I really might have planned

A year more quiet … hear me yelp?!?!

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1986–87 School Year

Harmon Middle School

Sabbatical Year!

I was on my sabbatical

This most relaxing year.

I read Jack London’s fifty books—

The Klondike, ever near.

Son Steve and I had loved our trip

Up there—the distant North.

We saw so many gold rush sites

As we moved back and forth.

And Steve was now a freshman at

Reserve this different fall,

Where Joyce would be his teacher (which

Ain’t all that bad at all!).

For me, a year of reading and

Of writing—study, too.

The year passed swiftly (big surprise!),

And soon it all was through.

I’d just, it seemed, exhaled a breath

And I was back in English class.

(Is this why people go on meth?

To make it seem so very fast?)

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1985–86 School Year

Harmon Middle School

This year I had my son in class—

I had no worries that he’d pass,

(And not because—now don’t be crass—

I favored him—or gave him breaks—

I cannot think of worse mistakes.

But Steve, I knew, had what it takes.)

The year flowed on—we did some shows.

The DC Trip (the wise one knows)

Was fun—and tiring—quickly flows.

We did some Shakespeare—had a blast.

Then watched that Shrew film (what a cast!)—

And memorized, from first to last,

That speech by wild Petruchio—

The speech that I still seem to know

About the mind—the body, Yo!

I taught Jack London’s tale as well—

That one with Buck, who, tale to tell,

Is famous—has no parallel.

The 8^th grade show came whirling by—

And when it ended? See me cry!

My year with Steve had gone buh-bye.

But in the summer we would see

The Yukon in its majesty.

What better summer could there be?

Years of My Life

A Journey from 1944 to … Now

1984–85 School Year

Harmon Middle School

Well, I drove off to school with my son every day—

We’d transferred him to Harmon (where I had to pay!).

See, we knew that he’d love it—this dear special place.

We were right: We could see it each day on his face.

But a strange thing was coming—I knew what it was:
He would have me in class—this would happen because

There was only one teacher for English (8^th grade)—

So I wondered about the decision we’d made.

And that year I directed C. Brown (once again!)

And then Billy the Kid (yes, that show from Back When).

And an 8^th Grade Farewell Show—the second of those.

And I could have slowed down—maybe should, I suppose.

But my health was still good—and my energy, high—

I was sure that I’d never get sick, never die!

And so when the year ended—that year ’85–

I was still feeling well and still very alive!