Six things

For homeroom this morning, I gave my students paper Christmas trees. On them they wrote people, things, and events, which moved their lives this year. Often, my students wrote their section's name, the graduation picture-taking which promptly moved them to nostalgia, a recent trip to Batangas with friends, and anonymous special someones. It was beautiful, seeing my class start their week with gratitude. As they worked on their Christmas trees, I made my own list in my head. I had six things, more or less:

1. My mother
2. Finishing first in my MA classes
3. Getting published in an academic journal
4. My class, Oxford
5. Writing about my father
6. Meeting- forgive the Haruki Murakami reference- the 100% perfect boy for me

My kids

I cannot believe that I get to spend my every day with such wonderful people. It is the best blessing, this job. 

At the funeral

You go to old places to cover them with new memories because you no longer want to be held captive. And so you bury them, these ghosts from the past, and hope that the fresh dirt is strong and thick and will hold fort against stories and feelings that long to pummel themselves back to the surface of the earth and into existence.