January 20, 2016 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
It has been a while since I have written, too long. While I have good intentions it seems that the busyness of life gets in the way. Papers to be graded, meetings to attend, dishes to wash, activities to go to; the list is endless. Yesterday my “to-do list” included attending a faculty meeting. Faculty meetings are fairly mundane and a routine part of my existence; this one was just like many of the others, with one notable exception. As per usual a faculty member stepped to the front of the room to open the meeting with a devotion or words of inspiration. While I expected Dr. Nolan to read some inspirational poetry or perhaps a famous soliloquy that would resonate with the ranks of the teaching faculty, she did something a bit unexpected. She asked each of us to close our eyes and “do nothing” for one minute, she would be the time keeper. I recognized this technique as it is one I use often with my students to get them to understand the importance of being still, quiet and reflective in a world that has so many distractions. Our faculty acquiesced to her instructions and the room, normally electric with chatter, was muted and peaceful. When the exercise started I was focused on enjoying the hushed environment because I knew that minute would fly by; but it didn’t. That minute stretched on for what felt like ten and I began to feel uncomfortable and agitated. We had things to do, was this a trick by Dr. Nolan? I am fairly sure that nothing duplicitous was happening with my colleague at the helm willing us reflect and relax. That minute humbled me. I preach to our students constantly about taking time for themselves and to purge the toxic buildup of banal worries. As for me, I confess I had a difficult time doing so. I have elevated my own status as to be seemingly above such needs; there is work to be done after all. I was wrong. If a simple minute of silence creates such angst, I have work to do. One of the things that I love about you best Little One is that you seek solace and isolation when you need it. You extract yourself from loud or busy situations when you need your “alone time.” That kind of self-awareness is precious; I hope you never lose it. Perhaps when it comes to nurturing myself with stillness you, my dear child, are the teacher and I have much to learn.
Posted in January 2016 | Tagged busyness, quiet, self-reflection, stillness, time | Leave a Comment »
October 3, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
One of the things that I love most about you is your unconditional acceptance of everyone you meet. It seems that you never meet a stranger and your heart is an ever-expanding space. Such unbridled acceptance comes with it a willingness to suspend your disbelief and embrace wild tales. Daddy finds your enthusiasm for a well-spun tale both delightful and disturbing; to this end he has tried to teach you the art of sarcasm and debate at a tender age. When I was young I too was more apt to believe someone than to question his or her motives; your Bumpa warned me that my gullibility would not end well. Unfortunately for me, your Bumpa was somewhat of a soothsayer in this regard. I would fall for the same line over and over again; always disappointed that things did not end differently. Sometimes my willingness to buy a story was based on fear. I recall one summer in particular when your Aunt Patti targeted my squeamishness for her own personal gain. She and I would always have chocolate milk at night in the table in front of the window, which Grandma Jo kept open to cool the living room down. When I wasn’t looking Patti would hit her knuckles (so I was told when I was older) on the underside of the table and declare, “A frog just jumped through the window and landed in your milk!” I would bring my gaze back to my glass, which would still be rippling from the hard knock to the wooden table. Horrified I refused to drink my milk. Patti would bate me and dare me to drink the frog-flavored concoction. In my resolution I would shove the glass at her demanding that she drink it if she was so brave; which she did, deliberately, slowly and dramatically. As you might have guessed, there was no amphibian to be found at the bottom of the glass. We repeated this one act play many times over the summer until at last Grandma Jo intervened on my behalf. Bumpa used to tease me about being gullible and warned me that it would some day be my downfall. In some ways Bumpa was right, I can be too trusting and ignore the ache in my gut that signals a warning. On the other hand, if we become too cynical we may lose our ability to show empathy to others. I choose not to live in a world where there aren’t second chances; I suppose the price for that is a level of vulnerability. My hope for you Little One is that you maintain your ability to accept others for who they are and that you have the wisdom to know when it is time to give someone an opportunity for redemption. Keep that heart of yours open Little One; someone, somewhere will need it some day.
Posted in October 2013 | Tagged Aunt Patti, Bumpa, empathy, friendship, frogs, Grandma Jo, gullible, unconditional acceptance | Leave a Comment »
September 26, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
When I look at you I can clearly see both daddy and me staring back. You have the color of my eyes, but the slope of his forehead. His nose sits squarely in the middle of your face while my hair provides the frame for your face. It will be all but impossible for you to deny your parentage; our DNA has lefts its unalterable mark on you. Although your chromosomal inheritance is clear in your physicality, it is your mannerisms and your language choices that truly reveal your lineage. Often I will hear you utter phrases that parrot my own language choices and I am taken aback at how much you have already assimilated from daddy and myself. Your penchant for science fiction at the tender age of six is entirely daddy’s fault and your need for happy endings with a soundtrack rest entirely upon my shoulders. Since you began to speak I have marveled at how much of our family history is already embedded into your vocabulary. The ability to turn a phrase or tell a story is certainly part of one’s personality, but it occurs to me it is also a map of one’s family culture. I often hear myself responding to someone that I am “finer than a frog’s hair.” While the chuckle in response is certainly gratifying and I would like to think myself clever; the use of that phrase is most likely due to the fact that I heard my grandfather say that more times than I can count. My uttering the phrase keeps him in the present with me even though he passed away when I was in the seventh grade. Language is a way to keep my dad close as well. Although you never met Bumpa or listened to him spin a colorful yarn, he has certainly influenced you. When you get yourself into a sticky situation and I say “you are up a creek without a paddle,” that’s Bumpa talking to you. When I get frustrated and say, “I am as unhappy as an outhouse mouse,” you are hearing your Bumpa. Grandma Jo also has a specific vernacular all of her own and I am afraid you and I will both someday lament our housekeeping and say “It looks like the wreck of the Hespers in here.” Or we will make a silly mistake and declare “Right church, wrong pew.” The point is Little One that we are more than our DNA. We are a reflection of our familial heritage and those who go before us live through us in many different ways. You come from a long line of talkers Little One; your ancestors have left you with a hefty collection of colloquialisms and one-liners…use them well.
Posted in September 2013 | Tagged Family, history, language, lore, phrases, vocabulary | Leave a Comment »
September 19, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
Sometimes change is hard. Often when it seems like you have a handle on this game called life, someone comes along and changes the rules. Getting used to new ideas and experiences can be a little scary. When you came home from the first day of school and I asked you how it went and you replied, “Mrs. Taylor did not do her job last year;” I knew you had inherited my predisposition to be a bit wary of change. Apparently, according to you, Mrs. Taylor (whom you adore by the way) did not do things in precisely the manner in which Mrs. M. (whom you also adore) does and thus….”first grade is going to be really hard and Mrs. M. says there is going to be A LOT of homework.” Now that you are almost a month into your first grade experience it seems that your apprehension has all but dissipated. The stubborn little girl who insisted on not reading and only making up her own stories (because Mrs. Taylor said that was acceptable) has now demanded that after mommy reads it is Lyla’s turn. A looming fear of any pain that would come with losing a tooth has been replaced with anticipation for the return of the Tooth Fairy (mostly because Daddy instructed her to put a $5 bill under your pillow for the first one). Anxiety over homework becomes a celebration of “Mommy-Lyla” time and you seem to love school now more than ever. I am sure that to your six-year-old psyche it seems ages ago since you had any trepidation over beginning a new school year; and that is the lesson to remember Little One. Change is inevitable and sometimes scary; but time has a way of softening our memories and dulling the ache of fear associated with the anticipation of something new and different. Life will continue to offer new and exciting adventures; not all will be welcome but they will come just the same. My hope for you Little One is that you remember that without change we cease to grow both in body and in spirit.
Posted in September 2013 | Tagged change, fear, first grade, home, motherhood, school, tooth fairy | Leave a Comment »
April 19, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
It has been a long since I have written a letter. I am ashamed to admit that I have not been so good about the work/life balance lately. I suppose the rush I have experienced in the last few weeks is normal when the semester is about to end. One thing you will learn is that our household runs on the academic calendar; the first of the year for us begins at the end of August. Most of us embrace the comfort and consistency of routine even when it may not be in our best interest. It is possible to be too dependent upon routine, too resistant to change and too unwilling to engage the messiness of life. I admit, I like to plan. I want to know what, when, who, why and for how long. I like the comfort a “to-do” list written reverently on a post-it note provides. But alas Little One, the sacrifice of spontaneity for the sense of comfort can act like a false prophet leading us to fatigue and creative exhaustion. I suppose this is why I have not written for a while. Over the past few weeks I have been so focused on the minutiae of the end of the semester that I have forgotten the big picture. I have neglected to nurture the part of my personality that loves to turn a phrase, snap some photos and whip up bakery confections to share with my colleagues. I have missed out on the joy I find in mentally visiting my past in order to create a narrative for you to explore when you are ready. While this letter may not introduce you to some new character on your family tree or expose the adolescent adventures of one of your aunts or uncles, I do hope that you will find something valuable within the text. While it is noble and right to meet the deadlines that you are given and to honor your obligations, it is important that you allow yourself time for reflection and rest. The soberness of life must be balanced by silliness if you are to maintain a sense of self in this very fast paced world. How blessed I am Little One that between you and Daddy I have a bounty of silliness in my life to keep me centered.
Posted in April 2013 | Tagged creativity, Daddy, Family, health, mental-health, Post-it Notes, silly, To-do list, work-life balance, writing | Leave a Comment »
March 1, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
Tomorrow Dr. Seuss would be celebrating his 109th birthday. I imagine that on this Friday kindergarten classrooms like yours all over the country will be reading his beloved books. Since a young age his writing has been inextricably linked with your bedtime rituals. Because of Dr. Seuss you have learned that “Unless”; we may lose our precious trees and wildlife. You understand that one should not be afraid of green pants, that leaders must not crack the shells of others for their own gain and that not everyone has stars upon thars, and that’s OK. I am sure that this will be a special day for you and your friends; that you will delight in hearing your teacher’s melodious voice recite your favorite Seuss stories. Today is special for another reason; it is the first day of March which is Women’s History Month. As you get older you will begin to understand the importance of this month; suffice it to say that men and women have not always been treated equally. I know this may be hard for you to understand because you have been taught to be fair, share with others and treat everyone with kindness. That is how it should be Little One and my hope is that your generation will do its best to ensure that very thing. But history must not be ignored or we are doomed to repeat it. So this month we celebrate the accomplishments of women, the struggles that were fought in the name of fairness and recognize the work that we still have ahead of us. I imagine that the good Doctor (Seuss) might have a few words for your generation on the subject; perhaps he would inspire you with the immortal refrain of “Oh the places you’ll go.” And so you will Little One, so you will.
Posted in March | Tagged dr seuss, equality, fairness, green pants, literature, Lorax, march, Oh the Places You'll Go, quotes, Sneetches, women's history month | Leave a Comment »
February 27, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
Spring break starts at the end of this week and my students can hardly contain their excitement; it has been a long winter and we both need a break from each other. Many of my students are going on service trips or vacationing somewhere warm. When I was an undergraduate spring break meant one thing, an opportunity to get in a 40 hour work week! To me breaks were a time to replenish my savings account so that I could make my car payment and have spending money. I never regretted not taking a spring break because I didn’t know what I was missing and having a car was motivation enough for me to not mourn the opportunity. It wasn’t until I was almost at the end of my PhD that I was invited to go on spring break. Daddy and I were living in Columbia, MO while I went to Mizzou; a year or two before I graduated Bumpa realized just how close that was to a variety of civil war battlefields and Eureka Springs. Bumpa proposed that we spend my spring break together touring the Ozarks. I did not get to spend a lot of quality time by myself with Bumpa while growing up since he worked a great deal and most of our time together focused on work. While possessing wonderful qualities; patience with his children was not one that Bumpa could claim. It was not until I reached adulthood that he and I began to understand each other and so I was grateful for some quality time with my dad. We had a wonderful week as we were not rushed as our only constraint was how tired our bodies got before we called it a day. We spent hours at civil war battlefields and Bumpa was lucky enough to stumble upon a group of men reenacting a battle; I knew that we would not depart anytime soon. After the reenactment Bumpa spent hours talking to the gentlemen, inspecting their weapons and discussing the authenticity of their clothing. While I have a healthy respect for history, this is not the period that intrigues me the most; however, dutifully I sat through these musings as it brought joy to my dad. We also spent time in Eureka Springs where we marveled at the statue of Christ, wondered at a tree decorated with running shoes and had the most delicious barbecue at the seediest joint I have ever been in to date. Bumpa and I stayed up late playing cards and talking politics. I learned more about my dad in that one week that I had my entire life prior to that trip. I discovered that he and I had similar passions and personality traits and that we were capable of communicating with love and respect. It has been fifteen years since Bumpa and I went on that trip together and the sights, sounds and smells that we encountered are as fresh as if we had traveled just yesterday. I treasure that time I had with my dad as our relationship had not always been as solid as I would have liked and in my younger days we often tread on rocky ground. Those days that I spent with Bumpa are even more precious as less than a year later he would go to heaven. The lesson for both of us Little One is that sometimes you just need to take a break and hang out with the ones you love, work will always be waiting but we never know how long we will have each other. I look forward to all of the possibilities that lie ahead for you, Daddy and me; spring break here we come!
Posted in February 2013 | Tagged Bumpa, cards, civil war, eureka springs, ozarks, spring break | Leave a Comment »
February 25, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
Today’s letter will be very short as I am feeling, as Bumpa would say, sicker than a dog that has eaten a chocolate bar. All I want to do today is sleep on the couch curled up in a blanket, dog behind my knees with the TV making noise in the background; today I want my Mommy. If Grandma were here she would make me some soup and bring me liquids to drink and I wouldn’t have a care in the world because mom’s make it all feel better if you are sick. But Grandma Jo isn’t here and I have to work because the thought of canceling class makes me feel worse. My hope for you Little One is that when you are older you will feel the same say about me that I feel about my mom. I guess you are never too old to want the familiar comfort of your parents; life lesson learned!
Posted in February 2013 | Tagged Family, Grandma Jo, mom, sick | Leave a Comment »
February 23, 2013 by Penni Pier
Today we celebrate Josh’ life…and in his memory it will be a two thumbs up day. Rest in Peace Josh.
Letters To Lyla
Dear Lyla,
You are unique, one of a kind; my proudest accomplishment to date. I think you are perfect just the way you are. Many parents share my sentiments with regard to their own children, which is the natural order of things. You are easy to love; you are precocious, cute, lively, witty and have the vocabulary of a college sophomore. The attention that is showered on you by my college students makes you one lucky duck; you are loved Little One. I am grateful every day that I have been called to a profession that allows me to meet so many different families; one that allows me to become a part of my students’ extended family. How fortunate we both are to meet a variety of people, to share in their accomplishment, their joys and sometimes their sorrows. In the fall of 2005 I met a very special family…
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February 22, 2013 by Penni Pier
Dear Lyla,
Last night as we were watching the weather and waiting to see if the “snowpocalypse” would find its way to our neighborhood I was surprised to hear you hope for school to be cancelled. You love school and miss your friends terribly over the weekend. Then it dawned on me; you have been hanging around Daddy too much. I find it amusing that high school teachers are just as thrilled to have a snow day as their students. Perhaps you were excited at the prospect of Daddy staying home with you so you could spend some time together. Maybe you will convince Daddy to bundle you up so you can make snow angels and then come in for some well-deserved cocoa and a viewing of one of your many animated films. Whatever mischief you two decide to get into on your snow day I am sure that by the time you are my age you will look back with nostalgia. As you know I grew up in north central Minnesota; we had lots of snow and cold weather but snow days weren’t as common as you might imagine. Minnesotans are well equipped for snow and it is a rare occasion that the fluffy white stuff stops them in their tracks. When I think back to the snow days I spent at home when I was your age I remember two things; hot cocoa and the fireplace. Bumpa worked regardless of the weather; he had things to check on and he wasn’t going to let a little snow get in his way. That left us home with poor Grandma who was used to spending her mornings in relative peace. She would indulge us on snow days by letting us stay in our jammies until mid-morning. Then we were instructed to put on our winter gear and head outside. I know that my sister and I would haul in wood on those days, as the fireplace was our central form of heat in the main house, but it is but a fleeting memory. What I do remember is rolling down the big hill to the lake and trudging back up again. I remember making snowmen, snow-angels and forts and getting my hat and mittens so caked with snow that you could not make out the original color of the fabric. Grandma would call us back in before we turned to little blocks of ice ourselves. As soon as we stepped inside the heat from the fireplace immediately started to melt the snow. It wasn’t until we felt the warm air on our skin did we realize how cold we had been and just how wet we were. The feeling of my socks and pant legs wet and sticky after being outside in the elements is still one of the most unpleasant sensations to date. Grandma would instruct us to shed our wet clothes as she made hot cocoa on the stove for us from scratch. My sister and I would head to the living room and sit either on the hearth right next to the fire or curl up close by in a chair with a blanket and the dog. Back then we didn’t have 24/7 cable or satellite and reception was spotty at best during snow storms so we would settle in for the day with a good book. My sister preferred Nancy Drew books while I was drawn to Little House on the Prairie and the Anne of Green Gables series; Grandma read romance novels. Those days seemed so perfect in retrospect. As if somehow for a day time stopped and all rules were suspended. It was as if Mother Nature was making sure we took a mental health day. While I am at work today I hope that you and Daddy break some rules. Have some fun and go play in the snow and when you are utterly exhausted I am sure that Gigi would love to snuggle up with her human on the couch. Ask Daddy to read your new book aloud to you, string some beads, play in some cardboard boxes or create some art. However you choose to spend your time, enjoy your snow day Little One.
Posted in February 2013 | Tagged Anne of Green Gables, cocoa, fireplace, home, Little House on the Prairie, Minnesota, Nancy Drew, nature, north central minnesota, snow angels, snow day, watching the weather, winter | Leave a Comment »
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Letters To Lyla 