Hi, Welcome to the Bungalow 

“Live in the sunshine, swim by the sea, drink the wild air.”

Ralph Waldo Emerson

If you asked me five years ago where I’d be today, I may or may not would have guessed here. Yet, sitting on the porch of my Bungalow, often with a freshly brewed coffee in hand, I keep asking myself: how did I get here so quickly?

For as long as I can remember, my life has been defined by beautiful, chaotic noise. I am a daughter, a sister to five uniquely different but fabulous siblings—six of us total—a faith-filled wife, mother, and a friend.

For 37 years, I was also a school teacher. It wasn’t just a job; it was a calling, a mission field of sorts. It is part of who I was meant to be. I absolutely loved my job. It was never just a paycheck; it was my passion, my purpose, and along with bing a wife and motherhood, my daily joy. I loved my students, my classrooms, my co-workers and the additional purpose it gave me. But somewhere in that nearly four-decade blur, the scales tipped. The administrative demands grew and the expectations ballooned. Sadly, the culture shifted. Some students seemed to lose their passion for learning, their self-respect, and their respect for those of us pouring our hearts into them. Piece by piece, the mounting stress quietly overtook the joy I used to feel every single day.

Thirty-seven years sounds like a lifetime on paper. But when burnout finally caught up with me, I knew it was time to step away, as difficult as it was. Almost suddenly, I realized that after a lifetime of taking care of classrooms and students, it was time to take care of Becky. This blog is the story of how I traded the classroom for a semi-retired life, and how I am learning to slow down after a lifetime in the fast lane.

The little girl in the photo had no idea of her destiny. She had no idea the many paths she would cross, people she would meet, person she would marry, children she would have nor students she would pour into.

She knew she was loved and enjoyed sharing love with others. She liked to dance and listen to music, and play in the dirt from as early as she can remember. She’d soon fall in love with the country and horses–riding, falling off and getting back up again was part of the challenge.

She was the baby of four, born in 1966—so to be heard, she had to be loud. To keep up with her big brother, she needed to know how to fight. To fit in with one sister, she fancied high heels, dolls, and playing dress-up. With her oldest sister, she simply felt safe and cared for, wrapped in the comfort of being the baby.

The little girl would soon be a big sister to a little brother and with the passage of time, a baby sister.

The little girl was in the middle. She is still in the middle, and loves it that way.

How did time pass so quickly? She was 2, then 11, playing softball and now a proud big sister to the two “new” babies. Then came 15, high school, cheer, track; 18, college; 21, another graduation; 23, marriage to her beloved husband, a career, nieces and nephews, and two precious babies of her own—her first, a beautiful daughter and not long after a precious son. Life flew like the blowing wind ; raising them, loving them, and feeling the heartbreak and joy of watching them fly from the nest.

In 2015, unbeknownst to her, she enters her final decade of teaching, and one Fall morning a blonde-haired blue eyed boy enters her classroom. They read and learn together, along with many others. She helps him and in many ways he helps her. He is first her student, and down the road becomes the “bonus” son she never saw coming and all the while thousands of children crossed the threshold of her classrooms, leaving fingerprints on her heart and changing her life forever.

My how, that little girl grew, lived, loved, and lost—-her beloved parents in particular brought great heartache. With the speed of a breath, she had gone from a full-time, hands on mother and teacher to retirement: part-time tutoring, a different kind of teaching, and peaceful moments in her favorite room, the deck of her home, lovingly named the Bungalow.

That little girl is me, and I am her. Welcome to this little corner of my life.

“All who wander, are not lost.”

J.R.R. Tolkien

I am bumfuzzled as to how I got here so quickly—time can certainly be a thief, but a life well-lived is a never-ending gift. Now, I am eager to enjoy the continued wonder and wandering alongside my friends, my family, and our dog, MaryJane. Most of all, I look forward to sharing this gift of time with our adult children and my dearest friend and husband of almost 40 years.

Thank you for stopping by the bungalow, where my mind goes to play and my soul goes to rest. Here, my thoughts meander and my garden grows.

Peace, Becky