Looking Back

This picture is from about a year ago.

"The highest function of the teacher consists not so much in imparting knowledge as in stimulating the pupil in its love and pursuit."

I don't know if you know this about me yet, but I used to work at a state park. For around 7 years (seasonally) I did all sorts of work outside. When the spring comes I miss it.

The one thing that really makes me wish I lived in a different state (aside from the lack of an ocean view) is that there is really only one National Park that is staffed around here.

Because then I could do that for a living.

Some days when my DH and I take a Sunday drive

(I know, we're elderly...with the Sunday drive in our Cadillac), I still drive to the lake.

Something about the water calms me. Which also explains my love of the West coast.

My husband often tells me I should just work there again, just work part-time/seasonal and have that be my job. Even though it pays very little, and is only for 7 months a year.

But I have this nagging urge to do more, be more. I have to finish this degree, get the bachelor's degree, get the master's degree. People keep asking me when I'm going to be done--and I don't know how to answer.

I am starting to understand why my father was still in school at age 53.
He learned things and worked simply for the pleasure of doing so...not necessarily a means to an end (that end being power, prestige, or pay).

I appreciate what he taught me not about money but motivation--and enjoyment of work.

The longer he is gone, the more I realize that all his years of school weren't wasted because he died at age 53. All those years brought him the sheer enjoyment of learning and the challenge of solving difficult problems, which is what he wanted.

Over the course of 5 years he went from attorney-at-law to a 4 year stint as a history teacher (he loved history more than anyone I've ever met and had to have the teaching experience) and then to high school administrator--which he told me before he died was one of the jobs he had enjoyed most.

Above all he wanted to teach me to think for myself, to solve problems for myself, and to never, ever quit learning.

I don't think you meet many people like that in a lifetime, and I am so thankful he was my dad.

That ex history teacher died on the anniversary of Pearl Harbor Day.

Maybe as his final lesson to me.