Love Can Mend Your Heart But Only If You’re Lucky Now

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Beads of Courage, Cancer, courage, Dire Straits, life, middle school, Ryan Adams, special education, strength, The Beatles, The Dixie Chicks, U2, Weezer

I’ve been thinking all day about this post; about my wording, about whether or not I will cry as I write, or if instead I will beam with pride, like I did this afternoon (until I left the room and let the tears out).

The picture at the top depicts a small portion of one very long strand of beads–special beads. They are Beads of Courage. I had never heard of these before. One of my students has been battling cancer for 7 years, and she has been in and out by the day all year long. November was a very close call, and after a deep depression and a home visit by me, I persuaded her to return to school and be the girl she had always been again. It took a week, but she came back.

 

She had chemo on Tuesday and wasn’t planning on returning this week, but her counts were so high, and she felt so great, she came today, beaming as always.  And with a bag she could not wait to show me and my coworker.

Before I continue, I started writing on song 1. I am now on song 5, and it’s as if someone or some thing chose the songs for me tonight. I’m almost spooked by it. All 6 are special songs to me, in their own rite. And I checked. None of them have yet to play on MWOAS. I don’t know how it’s possible.

So out came this strand of beads. It wrapped around her neck 4 times, hanging nearly to her thighs. My coworker and I held 2/3 of the beads, as she held the other third, smiling, as she told us the black beads were for lab work, orange for

A Lesson Too Late for the Learnin’

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brother, getting by, Ireland, love, U2

Bono on the jumbotron, Croke Park, Dublin

Alright. I am changing the format a little for a few reasons. One, the damned shuffle on iTunes reloads each time, even when I keep the window open and I have to start over each time. Two, I think things will happen more organically this way. So I will start writing when the first song comes on, and will stop with the last. I will still continue to try not to cheat. Doesn’t look like that will work…

About eight years ago, my brother and I got into a huge fight. Actually, his wife and I got into a huge fight. It was pretty nasty. All sides were right, each of us were wrong, but the line, “If we weren’t so alike, you’d like me a whole lot more” left me aching. We were best friends, whether either of us was willing to admit it. It hurt. It actually tore my family up for almost a year.

Despite things now being better than ever, I realize that sometimes you can make it on your own. I did for almost an entire calendar year. It was difficult but I did. I couldn’t hear my brother’s name without crying. He chose to not call my parents, which killed me more than anything. I felt guilty. But I pressed on.

“How to Dismantle an Atomic  Bomb” began its tour in Dublin the summer of 2009, and I was