May Peace Prevail On Earth

Friday, we showed a documentary about 9/11 in history class. The students I am working with this semester are in eighth grade. They were born a few years before the attacks with very few personal recollections of the events. It took me back to the days when I volunteered at a retirement home where I listened to stories from people who had first-hand experience in things I had only read about in history texts. The tables have turned.

Ten years later, I am on my path to become a history teacher. That day shook me and taught me one of the most valuable lessons I have ever learned: the human race is ever evolving and we must reflect upon the changes in order to progress into the future. Furthermore, we must understand the differences between us in order to move forward peacefully. I hope the students of my future classroom do not have to witness such a tragedy to come to this realization.

My dad and I welcoming home troops from Desert Storm

My heart goes out to the innocent who lost their lives and those who gave their lives to save others. My heart goes out to all the troops who have answered their country's call with bravery. My heart goes out to all the family and friends left behind to mourn the death of their loved ones. My heart goes out to the world at large. May peace prevail on earth.

Namaste.
Kins

Love Bites

Sometimes the only person who can offer reassurance to a broken heart is yourself with a little hindsight. Why you gotta do me like that, life? Here's to my first only broken heart that has been healing for the last year, slowly but surely:

Dear Shell of Myself, 

You have a big heart and I don't blame you for trying to help him; but he plays games and he wins every time. You already knew that, though. Enough is enough. Don't hold your breath for closure. You can't expect a little boy to do a man's job. Be happy that he came into your life for you are smarter from it, but be happier that he left for you are stronger from it. Hate the player, take back the game. Forget him and open your heart again.

With Love,
Single and Finally Ready to Mingle You

Namaste.
Kins

4XTREMES

About six months ago, my father proposed what sounded like a suicide pact to me. The term he used was the "4XTREMES." My dad concocted this adventure out of what I assumed was a mid-life crisis. I figured it was a bunch of bologna as I nodded and smiled. However, plane tickets, California hiking permits, ice axes, hotels, and surf lessons are all in the works and it seems that the 4XTREMES is legitimate. The mayhem begins May 8th and runs through the 14th. The week kicks off with skiing/snowboarding at Arapahoe Basin, Colorado (XTREME1). Then we fly to California to hike the highest point in the contiguous United States, Mount Whitney, in Lone Pine, California (XTREME2). Following the highest point, we'll hit the lowest point in the contiguous United States, Death Valley, California (XTREME3). And finally, we push our bodies to the limit with a surf sesh at Pismo Beach, California (XTREME4).

Despite these lovely scenic photos, I am mildly concerned for our well-being. Don't get me wrong. I'm super stoked to hit up A-Basin. I recently impulsively bought a new board while window shopping online: $500 Roxy Envi C2 BTX board in just my size for $299, no shipping or tax...yes please!

But I digress...back to fearing for my life. After shreddage at "the Beach," our flight takes off later that night around 9:00pm, destined for Santa Ana, California. After a night in a hotel, we head east for about four hours by car to Lone Pine where I presume our demise awaits us: Mount Whitney. I have purchased some new hiking boots for the occassion...as well as mini ice cramps for my boots and an ice axe. This isn't my first rodeo when it comes to fourteeners, but I feel like I need a license for this. Assuming we survive Whitney, we'll follow up with a leisurely stroll down to Death Valley, a quick trip according to Dad. Then to Pismo Beach for a little R&R before we hit up the surf for a day or two. Hopefully drowning as a result of exhaustion won't be problem. Finally we burn rubber down the coastal highway for the John Wayne Airport and fly back to the CO.

I'm not sure if my dad has death wishes for the both us or what, but hey, you only live once. I am actually pretty excited despite my fears and pessimism related to death at XTREME2. I will have one week of summer break between this trip and my summer teaching practicum so I'll try to write a post-adventure blog. If you don't see an update...send a search party up Whitney to find our frozen remains :/

Namaste.
Kins

PS: Blast from the past...papabear hiking Whitney back in the '80s.

Love Her Heart

I am part of a legacy. One of the greatest legacies this world will ever know, in my most humble opinion. This is the story of the Towler legacy. It starts with a one Jerry Towler and catalyzes with a one Lois Ann. The love between these two is astronomical and so far beyond human comprehension, I almost feel sorry for you if you've never witnessed it. With their love, these two brought four dashing young gentlemen into this world and it has never been the same. Now, these six in of themselves could be a legacy, but as they say, "Go big or go home." Well, the Towler's ain't going home anytime soon. Four lovely wives and nine grandkids later, the Towler legacy reigns on and will continue to, thanks to our big Ben and little Owen. Do the math; there's nineteen of us and we all sign the same last name (by the way, it's pronounced Tow-ler not Towl-er).

So, why am I telling you about this legacy--to brag? Well yeah. We've got beauty, brains, skill, charm, know-how, the whole kit-and-kaboodle, and all that. But most of all, I'm telling you about this legacy because we've got heart. And it all started with the most loving heart of all, Lois Ann Towler.

For the past few weeks Lois Ann has been putting up a fight against an array of medical problems. And for every hour of every day and every night, she had a fellow Towler in that hospital room fighting with her. If that's not family, I don't know what is.

It agonizes me to say that our legacy stands one woman short as of tonight, but only in the physical sense. Lois Ann lives on in every last one of our hearts. And although in mourning, they beat strong.

I wish so much, with my big fat Towler heart, that you were still on this earth with us, Grandma. But I know you'll always be with us in our hearts wherever we go and I'll be okay knowing that. Thank you for your eternal love. You will never be forgotten--not in a million years, not a chance. I love you so much. Rest in peace, Grandma Lois.

From left: Grandpa Jerry, me, Grandma Lois

Namaste.

Holly Ann

PS: The title of this blog is derived from a phrase that I always associated with Grandma Lois. If you ever told her about someone with problems of any kind, that was her reply. I can't really think of a good one, but for example:

- "I've had this flu for days and it's not getting any better!"
- "Oh well love your heart! Can I get you some soup?"

History Day

This past weekend, UNC hosted National History Day for students of northern Colorado to showcase their history research and nerdiness--including my students from my field work experience. I originally planned on being a judge at the event but I overslept...it was a stressful week. Anywho, as I lay in bed an hour and a half past the time I should have left, I contemplated over what to do...

Option #1 My bed is super comfy. I could just stay here since I have the day off of work and catch up on some sleep from that all-nighter on Wednesday.

Option #2 Get dressed super fast, rush to campus, find the coordinator, and ask if there is anything I could help with on the side since I missed orientation for judging.

Option #3 Get up at a leisurely pace, take a nice shower, eat breakfast, head over to campus, and watch my students' presentations from the audience.

Option #1 was never really an option. I told my students I would be there and they all left class on Thurday saying, "See you Saturday, Ms. T!" and, "Ms. T, you better give us a good score!" Option #2 sounded like suicide. School was especially brutal this week, my allergies attacked me hardcore, and I received some bad news about my grandmother's health--love her heart, always thinking of you Grandma Lois. I was just plain exhausted mentally and physically but I had an obligation to my kids. Option #3 consequently took the cake.

And my oh  my was it some tastey cake! I walked into Ross Hall where the event was held and saw a group of my students who immediately beckoned me over with cries of, "Ms. T, you're here! Did you see our group?!" and "We're up in ten minutes, Ms. T! I'm freaking out! Are you going to watch our presentation?" I sat down to watch students from another school and one of my students got up from her seat to come sit by me. After the presenters exited the front of the room, this pretty little girl proceeded to explain where her group's exhibit was so that I could look at it after presentation and gushed about her project on conspiracy theories of the JFK assassination. My heart just melted :)

I saw the kids who were "freaking out" through their documentary on the youth movements during the Vietnam War protests and talked to other students about how they were up until 2:00 and 4:00 in the morning. Then we all walked to the Univeristy Center for lunch where more relationships with more and more students formed. Following lunch, the award ceremony recognized two groups from my batch of students as first and second placers in their categories...GET SOME!

History nerds in the making!

I'm not the religious type but I believe in serendipity and I am so thankful the universe made my alarm defective that morning so I could oversleep and spend quality time with my students rather than callously marking off points on a clipboard.

Namaste.

Kins