Back Porch Break & Take My Hand Again Blog Posts

What I’ve Learned…So Far

May 15, 2020 by Nancy 23 Comments

See the missing piece? They are sending a new puzzle.

I know we will soon be deluged with articles listing things we’ve learned from being quarantined or sheltered-in-place because of the coronavirus, so I figured I’d get mine out early! They will be like those annoying lists of bests and worsts at the end of the year. Less is more.

But I have learned a few things, and I’m assuming you have also:

•To open those plastic produce bags at the grocery without licking your finger under your mask, use a small spritz of hand sanitizer from your purse.
•Don’t wear hoop earrings with your mask. The elastic bands get all tangled with the hoops and you might lose one. Studs work better.
•Jigsaw puzzles are way more fun, and way more addicting, than I knew.
•A shelter-in-place order can substitute for years of marriage counseling to find out if you married the right person. Gratefully, I did.
•Laughing until you pee your pants works better when close to your own bathroom. This can happen at any moment.
•Watching too much TV, streaming, etc., can give you a headache!
•Never take going out to dinner, or even sitting in a movie theater eating popcorn and sipping on a soda, for granted.
•Take-out meals never taste quite as good as they did in the restaurant.
•There’s no end to the creativity crisis can inspire in people! Such amazing videos of Rube Goldberg gadgetry, pet tricks, songfests, funny memes, etc. My favorite? “I’ve washed my hands so much I just found the answers to my 7th grade history test!”
•ZOOMing is just like Hollywood Squares and can be more fun unless you try to sing Happy Birthday all at once. Don’t try that. It doesn’t work!
•A little Covid-19 news, complete with maps and charts, goes a long way. If you wake up and don’t feel sick, have a cup of coffee, take a walk, wave at a neighbor, and find something productive to do with your day.

Most important, NONE of the above matters. We are blessed if we are sheltering-in-place in a home of our choosing with running water and plenty of toilet paper! Touch of Love International is helping those less fortunate in other countries. Visit here if you’d like to contribute to their Covid-19 Relief Fund. And remember to say your prayers. God’s got this.

Sharing the Good News

April 8, 2020 by Nancy 8 Comments

Often when I ask assisted living residents for prayer requests I hear longings for physical healing. “I would just like to get out of this wheelchair and walk again,” one might say, or “For my back to heal so I can get around without this walker.” But truthfully, wheelchairs and walkers may be a part of their reality as long as they tarry on this earth.

So how can we encourage elders we know to look beyond their physical limitations to see the opportunities they still have to move through the world making a difference? Especially now during their increased isolation due to the pandemic? At Easter we can encourage those who believe in the Resurrection of Jesus Christ, and the promise of eternal life for those who believe, to share this Good News with others.

I love the stories in the Bible of women running with good news. The Samaritan woman at the well ran back to her village after encountering Jesus. John 4:28 states: Then, leaving her water jar, the woman went back to the town and said to the people, “Come, see a man who told me everything I ever did. Could this be the Christ?”

And of course there’s Mary Magdalene that first Easter morning. She, too, encounters Jesus, but she doesn’t recognize him at first. John 20:15-16 reads: “Woman,” he said, “why are you crying? Who is it you are looking for?” Thinking he was the gardener, she said, “Sir, if you have carried him away, tell me where you have put him, and I will get him.” Jesus said to her, “Mary.” She turned toward him and cried out in Aramaic, “Rabonni!” (which means Teacher).

Jesus tells Mary Magdalene to go and tell the others that He has risen, and will soon be returning to His father in heaven. John 20:18 tells us: Mary Magdalene went to the disciples with the news: “I have seen the Lord!” Surely she ran as fast as her sandaled feet could carry her.

Maybe the older people we know can no longer run to deliver good news, but they can still deliver it. Encourage those who believe to share what they know, and to explain who the risen Lord is to them, with others this Easter. Help them to see beyond their physical limitations to the amazing life-giving force that is still within them. Encourage them to figuratively leave their wheelchairs and walkers behind and “run” with the Good News of Easter!

Revised from an article first published in Pikes Peak Senior News, Spring 2020.

While in Exile

March 18, 2020 by Nancy 24 Comments

So I’ve just sorted through several small baskets of toiletries stashed on bathroom shelves and under the sink searching for any hand sanitizer I might have squirreled away. I didn’t find any, but if you’re in need of any dried up, odd shades of lipstick, I’m your girl!

One thing we all have in common right now, other than searching for hand sanitizer, is how to react to this period of exile. I’ve read perspectives on the coronavirus and its effect on “life as we knew it” from the deeply spiritual to the very humorous. There is no shortage of advice on this serious situation. (Which didn’t stop me from sharing my own, you’re thinking!)

As much as I’ve appreciated and shared all the spiritual insights and guidance (DO read Psalm 91), I’ve noticed that the humor helps, too. One person posted on Facebook, “I have to wonder if all this is happening because I didn’t forward that message to 10 people.” Another post read, “The babies born nine months from now will be known as the Coronial Generation.”

And it seems as if this unprecedented period is bringing out our true personality types. One of the funnier things I read is that when the CDC says for us to avoid large crowds, stay six feet apart, and stay home as much as possible, the introvert thinks, “I’ve waited my whole life for this!” It’s the more extroverted types who may hyperventilate upon hearing that restaurants, gyms, movie theaters, concert venues, amusement parks and churches are all closed.

Yet maybe those most unsettled by this found time are the procrastinators among us. The ones who say at least once a day, “I should (fill in the blank) but I’m too busy.” Hello! Now’s the time. (Unless you are suddenly homeschooling children while working from home. You may just want to stop reading now because you don’t have extra time!)

Yes, each of us has to decide on his or her own how to approach this indefinite pause in life as planned—and how to make the best use of our unexpected down time. That may begin by thinking of it as a gift. With that in mind, let me offer some suggestions for things to do that you may have always wanted to do anyway:
• Call an old friend you haven’t talked to in years and just hang out on the phone.
• Clean like a fiend. Spring cleaning on steroids. Get the family involved.
• Organize photos on the computer or wherever you’ve stashed them.
• Look at gardening catalogs and get a jump on an award-winning garden!
• Have your bored kids wash their hands and write notes or draw pictures to drop off at a cloistered assisted living facility near you.
• If you have the ingredients, make a recipe you haven’t had time to make lately. (I made a banana pudding I haven’t made in 30 years!)
• Tackle that home improvement project! Or just find the paint and touch up the base boards.
• Remember board games, charades, and gin rummy? Even empty nester couples can benefit from shutting off screens and playing games together. And doing so could totally rejuvenate families.
• Go through your bookshelves to find those books you bought because you really wanted to read them and line them up in order of anticipation.
• We can still go outside, so take long walks. Drop surprise items on neighbors’ front porches. Sing from your balcony as they are doing in Italy!
• And to all the serious creative types among us—just do it! Finish the book. Get out the paints and the palette. Stitch the quilt. Slap the clay on the wheel. Create.

Some day in the hopefully not too distant future we will be able to look back on these weeks and see how they bonded us, refocused us on what matters most, and even restored us. Occasionally God allows something into each of our lives that causes us to “unplug” for a while. This feels more like a total power outage. But IF we are blessed to remain in good health, let’s not waste this gift of time by whining over all we can’t do. Let’s get on with what we can. Let’s listen to the still, quiet voice of God saying, “This time will be a gift to you, should you choose to accept it as such.”

Friendships and “Furships”

February 26, 2020 by Nancy 20 Comments

How would we get through life without our friends—or the fur friends we love so much? This has been a sad and silent week in our home. We had to say goodbye to our sweet cat, Molly, last week. I never realized how much her meows—with different intonations for each communication—had become such a part of the soundtrack of our lives for the past 16 years until they were gone. The silence is deafening.

Her physical absence is agonizing, too. She’s not by the door asking to go out on the deck. She’s not getting me up to feed her, or sitting on my lap early in the morning as I have my quiet time. (I’ve actually had to set an alarm this week.) She’s not sidling up to my husband Jim for some extra pats in front of the fire, or jumping from his lap to mine and back again as the three of us settle in to watch TV in the evening. She’s simply not here. And we miss our fur friend.

This is when the human friendships we have mean more than ever, however! Those friends with pets, or who have been loved by pets in the past, truly know the pain of losing a fur friend who was part of the rhythm of daily life. The first day Molly was gone a neighbor stopped by with a card, a bottle of wine, and the time to just sit and talk about Molly for a bit. A true friend.

Messages from friends on Facebook were so kind: “My heart breaks for you.” “She was such a sweet kitty.” “I’m so very sorry for your loss.” Please know that I know losing a pet doesn’t compare to losing a sibling, a parent, or a spouse. But it is a loss nonetheless, and it’s so sweet when friends come alongside to acknowledge it. A friend from afar texted, “Many, many of my best friends have had fur, and many of my best memories are of them. I’m sorry you have lost your friend. You’ll have your memories forever.” So true.

Pet therapy from my friend Beth's collie, Maisie, and her fur friend Duchess. — Pet therapy from my friend Beth’s collie, Maisie, and her fur friend Duchess.

The long phone calls that included laughter, the notes and cards that came in the mail, the friend who invited me over for some sympathy licks from her dog, all of it helped this week. And all of it underscored the fact that we need one another.

It didn’t surprise me to read that a new book by science journalist Lydia Denworth, Friendship: The Evolution, Biology, and Extraordinary Power of Life’s Fundamental Bond, includes research proving that friendship is not only good for our emotional health but for our physical health as well. Bottom line: People with at least one good friend tend to live longer, happier lives. No surprise, but good to have the scientific confirmation.

So cherish your human friends and your fur friends—nurture your friendships and your “furships.” Give of yourself generously, and you will be so very blessed in return.

My Bird of “Pray”

January 20, 2020 by Nancy 12 Comments

It’s been fun to receive suggestions on Facebook from friends trying to help me identify this majestic bird of prey that visited me early last Tuesday morning. Best guesses are that he is a young Cooper’s Hawk or a Red Tail Hawk, but one friend suggested clearly he was a falcon who flew over from the Air Force Academy nearby (Go Falcons!) Some bird-minded friends even turned to their guide books and posted photos to substantiate their guesses. I am still not sure exactly what species of bird he is, but I know he is magnificent—and that he brought me a message.

I have a real-life, not Facebook, friend who believes that whenever she sees a bird of prey soaring overhead or perched in a tree nearby it’s bringing her a message from God. I guess I thought of this as just a harmless, sweet sentiment that I indulged until it happened to me in 2008. It was soon after my mother passed away and I was driving to the San Luis Valley to visit family. “Lord,” I prayed, “I trust my mom is with you, but I miss her so much. I just wish you could send me a sign that all is well with her.”

I was listening to Alan Jackson’s CD of his mom’s favorite hymns at top volume as I drove. Just as I reached the crest of La Veta Pass, “I’ll Fly Away” came on—the song we sang at my mother’s graveside. I looked to my right, and a hawk seemed to have caught the draft of my car and was gliding right beside me for what seemed to be 10 seconds or more. As I looked at him he turned his head to look at me through the passenger side window. I had my sign.

And then there was last week. I had just finished my quiet time that morning with a time of prayer that concluded with an earnest request for God’s help. I opened my eyes, lifted my head, looked out onto our deck, and there this remarkable bird sat, turning his head almost upside down quizzically as he gazed back at me.

You see, I’ve been working for months on completing volume two of my devotional guide for seniors, The Hope of Glory. I write one lesson a week and take it to class with a group of ladies in assisted living on Wednesday morning. The ladies help me tweak the lesson and the interactive questions included. In this way each lesson is “field tested” before final inclusion in the book.

Like many self-directed writers, I work best with a writing schedule. I only have 15 of the 57 lessons needed for the book left to go, so my plan was to fill out the schedule with all the remaining topics as my blueprint for finishing the job—but I couldn’t come up with any. I was stymied. So in my prayer time I asked God, the Creator of all, to please give me His ideas on what I should be writing about, and by the way, to please help me finish the lesson I was working on for the next day, appropriately titled “God is Enough.”

God did help me finish the lesson last week, but none too soon. I told myself that if I wasn’t happy with it by 8:15 the next morning, the time I needed to hop in the shower in order to get to class on time, I would just use a lesson from the first book instead. I successfully wrapped it up at 8:14. God loves to have fun with deadlines!

It was after class that day that I began to realize that my bird of prey had really been a bird of “pray!” I was sitting at a stoplight on my way home, thinking about nothing in particular, when I clearly heard the message deep in my spirit: “Fan the Flame.” That brought to mind a verse in 2 Timothy 1:6-7—For this reason I remind you to fan into flame the gift of God, which is in you through the laying on of my hands. For God did not give us a spirit of timidity, but a spirit of power, of love and of self-discipline. I knew I had the topic for the next lesson.

To be very clear, I worship the Creator, not Creation, but I do believe He can use His creation to speak to us. The bird, the writing schedule, the lesson for that day, the new topic suggestion, suddenly I was able to connect them all into one strong message. God was letting me know, “Yes, I am going to help you finish this book, but you will have to be totally dependent on me. And by the way, I am not going to fill out your writing schedule in advance. I will give you each topic week-by-week, and we will finish it together on my timetable, not yours.”

Thank you for this encouraging message, Lord, and thank you for sending your majestic creature to deliver it to me.

A Christmas Homecoming

December 17, 2019 by Nancy 5 Comments

A common refrain from those living in care facilities is, “I just want to go home.” This sentiment is most often expressed by those in memory care who may not be able to remember why it was that they needed a safe, different environment in which to live. One facility I visited installed a bus stop in the hallway. Just sitting on the bench waiting for the bus seemed to calm the residents wanting to go home until the desire to do so passed them by.

This makes us sad, but we can understand that all hearts yearn to go home—especially at Christmas time. If we can’t take our seniors home for Christmas in the real sense, what can we do to bring home to them?

A good place to start is with the story of the first Christmas recorded in Luke, Chapter 2. Although our elders may have heard this passage of Scripture read in church services every Christmas of their lives, they may not have thought about the fact that none of the main characters in the story were home on the first Christmas.
Joseph had once lived in that region which is why he was required to transport his pregnant wife on a donkey, taking her with him to register for the census in Bethlehem. But it wasn’t home to him. Mary likely had never been there before. She was young, about to give birth, and far away from her family and familiar surroundings. Surely she yearned to go home.

And then there’s the Baby Jesus himself. The star of the story. He certainly wasn’t home. He left the glories of heaven, where He reigned next to Almighty God, and humbled himself to come to earth as a tiny baby born in a stable surrounded by animals. Jesus later said, “For I have come down from heaven not to do my will but to do the will of him who sent me…For my Father’s will is that everyone who looks to the Son and believes in him shall have eternal life…” (John 6:38, 40). He left His celestial home for a significant purpose.

Sharing this perspective on the Christmas story may lead to some heartfelt discussions about home. It’s common for elders to let messages of discouragement bring them down, especially over the holidays. They may remember all the years they decorated their homes, baked for days, wrapped presents, set beautiful tables, served scrumptious meals, and then they wonder, “Did any of it matter? Does anyone even remember those Christmases?”

The best gift you can give an elder parent is to tell them, “I remember.” If possible, go through old photos and create a small album of photos from Christmases past. Include recipe cards for favorite annual treats or other mementos of your family Christmases.

As you look at the album with your loved one tell her, “I’ve tried to make your crescent cookies but they never turn out as good as yours.” Or tell him, “I really believed those footprints you made in the snow were from Santa!” It doesn’t matter what you share, just that you say, “I remember.” With or without an album of photos, sharing fond Christmas memories with the elders you love may be the best gift you can give them. Merry Christmas to all!

First published in Pikes Peak Senior News, Winter 2019-2020.

Grateful for Snow Memories

November 23, 2019 by Nancy 21 Comments

First day we both skied free--March '17. — First day we both skied free–March ’17.

I miss the smell of snow skiing. I know that sounds strange but moist, snow-covered evergreen trees under a sunny sky emit a wonderful aroma nothing like those cardboard pine-scented car fresheners. On your first ride up the lift that fresh smell fills your senses, and you’re off!

We gave up snow skiing almost two years ago by choice. I planned my 70th birthday around skiing for free at Monarch Mountain, surrounded by as much of our family as we could gather. I was crying when I popped my bindings off for the last time, but I knew it was right.

I had made a conscious decision that I wanted a healthy old age that allowed me to take long walks, travel, go to Zumba class, and spend time keeping and playing with grandchildren and great-grandchildren. It was no longer worth it to me to risk being wiped out by a 300-pound Bubba from Oklahoma who decided to try snowboarding for the first time! God love his sense of adventure, but I’m staying out of his way.

To be truthful, I was a “fair weather” skier anyway. More than once my husband and I got out of the car at a ski area where the wind was blowing so hard we could barely open the car doors, thought “no thanks,” went to breakfast and drove back home. We preferred fresh snow, bright sun, and temperatures at or above freezing, so a couple of days of March skiing were enough for us. But oh, the memories of skiing over the years.

Last ski day! Jan. '18. — Last ski day! Jan. ’18.

I first skied at age 22 by default while living in Germany. My then husband convinced me to ride the lift up to the top of the Zugspitze in Garmisch because the views were fantastic! Somehow I got down that day, praying all the way that my five-month-old baby boy wouldn’t have to grow up without a momma. Eventually I took lessons from an Austrian ski instructor whose only English was, “Bend zee knees, UP!” That was enough information to keep me happily cruising the blue, intermediate slopes safely for 48 years.

But the time on the slopes is just part of my bank of snow memories! How I remember two little rosy-cheeked boys in zip-up snowsuits struggling to carry their skis through the parking lot because it was time to “hit the slops” as one liked to say! I remember returning to ski condos with a real fire crackling in the fireplace and the smell of chili in the crockpot. I remember hot tubs with family and friends, hot mulled wine, and a lot of board games.

I know there are more snow memories for my husband Jim and me to make in the future. Maybe we’ll take up cross-country skiing again, or try snow shoeing. Maybe we’ll tag along on a family ski trip and just enjoy stoking the fire and stirring the chili while everyone else walks around with bowling balls on their feet and tries to keep their fingers and toes from freezing.

It will happen because the snow still calls to me. This morning the sun came out after a healthy dump of snow over the last two days, and something in my soul said “ski day!” Several Colorado resorts are already open before Thanksgiving so it should be a great season. But this morning, it was enough for me to wake up my husband and convince him to take an early morning drive to a diner for breakfast. Feeling the fresh snow crunching under my feet as we walked in made me happy, as did the hot coffee and scrambled eggs. Of course our view of the snow-covered mountain range against the blue Colorado sky was more than worth our travel over frosty streets.

I’m grateful for all my snow memories. Those in the past and those still to be made! Hope you also find something for which to be grateful this Thanksgiving. When we look for them, blessings abound.

Are You a Season Clinger?

October 28, 2019 by Nancy 10 Comments

You know us when you see us. Those of us who can’t quite let go of the season we are losing to fully embrace the one that is coming. Especially when it means letting go of summer to embrace fall or fall to embrace winter.

We’re the ones in the grocery store in a turtleneck, a vest, shorts and sandals. We’re the ones who keep bringing in our outdoor potted plants every night to protect them from below freezing temperatures because we just know warm days will return. And we’re the ones who leave our hummingbird feeders up until the nectar’s been frozen for several days in a row.

In our defense, however, it’s easy to understand why Colorado residents might be clinging to summer and fall both this year. Summer temperatures and blossoms were late in arriving, and an early frost cheated us of the beautiful showing of fall leaves on trees at lower elevations.

When I left for a trip, the red maple behind our house was just beginning to show tinges of red around the edges of each leaf. I came back a week later excited to see it flaming red as in years past, but no. All the leaves had already turned brown and were blowing away with each wind. “Wait!” I wanted to scream. “You haven’t turned bright red yet!”

In the biblical book of Ecclesiastes, however, the author Solomon reminds us that: There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens (Ecclesiastes 3:1). Reading through his reminders of such things as a time to be born and a time to die, a time to plant and a time to uproot, a time to weep and a time to mourn and on and on, I realize it could be time to let go of fall and embrace winter.

What does this mean? It’s time to switch summer T-shirts and sundresses for sweaters and corduroy pants in our closets. It’s time to detach the hose, prune the perennials, empty the pots and store them. It’s time to dig out the boots, the mittens and scarves and fill the hall closet with warm winter coats.

Solomon goes on to write that God has made everything beautiful in its time (Ecclesiastes 3:11). The pot of impatiens I couldn’t bring myself to sacrifice is almost as beautiful in the house as it was on the front porch in July, and I only have to look outside my window this morning to remember that the coming winter season will have beauty all its own. Okay, God, I surrender. You’re telling me it’s time to let go and move on, so I will. As always, I trust Your timing.

The September Rose

September 9, 2019 by Nancy 16 Comments

Why is it that September roses seem more beautiful than those of June? Maybe it’s because we thought we’d seen the last of the blossoms, but then the rose bush surprises us with a new burst. Just a little plant food, water, and sunshine and voila! Another showing of delicate pink buds appears to remind us that warm, summer days are still with us, and beauty will continue to appear where we least expect it.

My rose bush is a common rambler, but my neighbor has a glorious hedgerow of Rose of Sharon bushes. Really from the hibiscus family, these blooms wait until late August or early September to come into their glory. In the Bible, the Rose of Sharon symbolizes beauty, and it is used in the poetic book of Song of Solomon to describe the beauty of a lover. This year we were all surprised when a darker pink section appeared in a bush that was always covered with light pink flowers in years past. Some sort of beautiful, botanical miracle!

At our last house, I had a more sophisticated rose that only had two or three blossoms at a time. Still, each year in September it would gather all the nutrients it had left to produce one perfect rose which I always dubbed “the last rose of summer.” I’m not the only one to appreciate such simple solitude. In 1830, Thomas Moore wrote, “’Tis the last rose of summer, left blooming alone; All her lovely companions are faded and gone.”

What lesson does the late or last September rose have for us? Maybe it’s a sign that whatever our age we, too, have more to offer the world than we have yet revealed—even more than the world expects of us. If summer has rejuvenated us at all, can we pull on the resources we’ve stored up to go into fall producing something that makes the world a more beautiful, better place?

I must have loved going back to school in the fall as a child, because September always gives me a boost. It feels more like a new year than January 1 ever did! It’s a time to set goals, to mend any fences with broken pickets, to look forward to the coming autumn, even winter, with an expectation that the days will be worth celebrating just because they exist.

Might there be hard times to come? Sure. The farmer’s almanac predicts a cold and blustery winter. But as we are surviving it, the rose bush buried under the snow will be resting up for a new show of glory come next summer. That wise sage Ziggy is quoted as saying, “You can complain because roses have thorns, or you can rejoice because thorns have roses.” Let’s enjoy the last rose of summer, applaud her resilience, and be optimistic about the beauty in the days to come—even if there are some thorns, too.

What’s So August About August?

August 28, 2019 by Nancy 18 Comments

To describe someone or something as august means you believe the person or event to have great importance, inspire reverence or admiration, or be worthy of respect. The long list of synonyms for august includes: distinguished, eminent, venerable, hallowed, illustrious, acclaimed, esteemed, impressive, magnificent, majestic, and lordly. Whew!

So why is the eighth month of the year called August? Evidently the Roman Senate changed the name of this month in an attempt to curry favor with Caesar Augustus, who completed the calendar reforms begun by Julius Caesar.

But does this last full month of summer merit its moniker? What’s so august about August? How does it inspire reverence or admiration? Oh, let me count the ways!

First of all, August is the month when summer reaches its fullness. It’s the month when the Black-eyed Susans, Colorado’s “lilies of the field,” flourish on the roadsides and spring up in the most unexpected places. In fact, it’s the month when beauty abounds.

Sweet little peach Andie gets ready to sample a Palisade peach! — Sweet peach Andie with a Palisade peach!

Recently we were invited to the home of friends who live in the Black Forest area of Colorado Springs in a wonderful log home surrounded by evergreen trees and lovely woodland gardens. As I gazed at their planters overflowing with blossoms of every color, and heard and watched the hummingbirds cavorting around their feeders, I breathed in the balmy evening air and thought, “Now this is summer. This is August.” Definitely a moment of reverence and admiration.

August is also the month of harvest. The month when we can find rows and rows of colorful, fresh produce at the farmers’ markets instead of just the vendors with their homemade soaps and honeys. In Colorado, August is the month we finally get to feast on Olathe sweet corn, juicy Palisade peaches, and Rocky Ford cantaloupe. All venerably acclaimed for their delicious, rich flavors. One might even describe the first taste of each as magnificent!

Liam and Peter in 2013. — Liam and Peter years ago!

And then there are all the darling “back to school” photos on Facebook and Instagram. Are those moments captured of great importance? Oh yes. How distinguished the children look in their new school clothes, toting backpacks with zippers that work. The hope that shines on those little faces that this year they will find a place to sit at lunch, make a new friend, like their teacher, and get to the bus on time, is hallowed for sure. And the loud, collective sigh of relief from all the parents once school is back in session could surely be described as impressive! Even those of us who remember when school didn’t start until after Labor Day have to admit that an important event like starting a new school year fits nicely in a month called August.

So we revere and respect you, August. We even dub you lordly because only the Lord who is the Creator of all could give us such an illustrious month! Come back next year, OK?