Facebook...Proceed With Caution

Last night, I broke an unwritten, self-imposed, rule I had set for myself. 

I commented. And commented. And commented on a Facebook post regarding the Village of South Jacksonville. And I was answering in my capacity as a Village Trustee. 

Certainly, I have answered questions and shared, what I consider,

pertinent information regarding the Village before now. 

This was different. 

In all fairness, I began by answering an original post when I knew the person who posted it did not have all the information they needed to form an opinion. I was simply trying to set the record straight. That part was fine. No foul. No flags thrown.

However, later in the evening, a notification popped up from that same post. 

Different person now. Asking what seemed to be a straightforward question. 

I answered. 

I have always been a person who says what she feels. As an educator and a former coach, I constantly urged the same from the young people who crossed my path over my decade or so in the public school system. 

Communication is essential in any and in all types of relationships. 

While I certainly do not take back anything I said and nor do I regret it, what I am bothered by is how quickly I let myself get sucked into an agenda which was not my own. 

When you answer posts on Facebook, you run the risk of the never ending cycle of messages. One leads to another and yet another. There's no order and certainly no rhyme or reason. Focus is lost. Original points are muddled. Lines are blurred. People talk to each other in tones they would never use if conversing face-to-face. Disrespectful and accusatory tones. There's sarcasm and innuendo and that is never an adult way to communicate. Especially when you are talking about the Village of South Jacksonville. 

While this particular exchange didn't get to an extreme point, I did feel berated because I was asked something I will not do and was accused of not be transparent as a result. Bullying tactics. I've seen them many times before in schools. 

Yes, I finally stopped the exchange. 

But, the stark reality is, I let myself get sucked in. 

Moving forward, I only want to address that one small part of the entire exchange last night. 

I was asked to disclose a letter I received as a Trustee during the January 7 Board meeting. I was urged to just 'post it' on Facebook or send it to the person I was talking with to satisfy their need to see it immediately and prove something. Absolve the Village of something. I said I would not. 

I noticed this morning, I had been accused by another as using a 'power play' by not providing the letter as requested because it was public record. 

So we're completely clear from this point on, any materials I receive as a trustee are mine. I have not and will not share these materials merely because someone asks me or because they may or may not be public record. No one sees my Board packets nor anything I receive during a meeting. I have been happy to share the Board Agendas with people who hadn't gotten a chance to look at Village Hall (where they are posted) or online. I see no issue here because it's an Agenda which, by the time I receive it, is already publicly available. This is the only exception.

As for making a power play? 

Here's the power I see I have as a Trustee. 

I have the POWER OF MY VOTE. 

Therefore, any and all materials given to me are for THAT purpose. 

If someone wishes to obtain Village documents, we have a process for that. Trustees are not part of that process. We have a Village Clerk who handles any and all requests. 

As for transparency, everyone's perception is their reality, of course. 

Here's what I know. This is my reality.

I have taken the time to talk with several Village residents who have concerns/comments to see what their issues are. That's my job. To hear all sides. That's transparency. 

I don't feel I can make an informed vote without doing my homework. I have done it and will continue to do so. Depending on the topics to be discussed, I can spend hours preparing for a meeting. That's transparency. 

I am accessible to whomever wishes to talk with me. That's transparency. 

If you attend the meetings, you'll notice I stay inside long after the meeting is done, in case someone wants to talk. That's transparency. 

I make my point of view known at Village Board meetings. That's transparency.

That being said, I have no desire to engage in, what I consider to be, pointless politically-based banter with my peers on Facebook. 

Why do I feel they are pointless? Because nothing can be accomplished in this context. 

So, today I reaffirm that I will continue to use this medium for writing this Blog, endless pictures of my family, my favorite quotes or sayings, 'Happy Birthday' wishes to all those I'm fortunate to have in my life, and simple updates regarding the Village, among other random things. 

Isn't that what Facebook was originally designed for? 

It is what it is. 

p

 

You're Gonna Miss This...

There's a well-know country song, sung by Trace Adkins, called, 'You're Gonna Miss This.'  

All four of our kids were home for their Christmas breaks recently. Our oldest, Braxton, is a teacher in St. Louis. His district was out for the holidays. Our three younger are still in Champaign completing their degrees. Blaize will soon be done with his Master's, while Brody and Bentley are working on their Bachelor's degrees. They had an even longer break than Braxton and were home for over a month. 

It's such a special time for us all. 

We reconnect as a family. 

We rekindle the closeness that we lose by living apart so many months of the year. 

It's a time I truly treasure. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

Our house comes to life with their arrival. It's a whirlwind from the second they come thru the door until they leave again.  Being empty-nesters for several years now, it's always a bit jarring when they come. 

 

I seem to forget how having six people in a house can be so different from having two. 

Lots of clothes lying around. 

The kitchen 'open' at all hours. 

My stove never clean. 

Running the dishwasher and doing the laundry on a daily basis. 

And the groceries we go through! How soon I forgot the sheer volume they eat. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

As the break wore on, I kept finding myself thinking of that song and some of the lyrics.

'You're gonna miss this. You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.'

Every parent feels it. We blink and our babies are grown. Our kids are adults and I miss the babies, the toddlers, and the young adults they once were. That won't change. 

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

For several years now, our kids friends from U of I come to stay with us over break. Tradition dictates they go to eat at Leo's Pizza and then come back for game night and an entire night of doing what kids in their 20's do. Blaring music. Games. Alcohol. Laughter. Inside jokes. Storytelling. Friendship. 

We love it.

Most years, we also have JHS alum and the token Routt alum, too. Old high school friends are always welcome, of course. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.'

This year, I realized that even though I had always thought of this song in terms of what I was missing because our kids were growing up, that this song applied to our kids and to their friends, as well. 

Blaize will graduate in May as will several of the kids who came to visit. Brody will graduate in December. Others will, too. 

Their lives are about to change. 

They will soon leave college behind and may end up in other parts of the country and won't be able to come see us during Christmas break again.

I snapped this picture as I was heading to bed that night. Amid all the laughter and smiles, I couldn't help but feel a tug at my heart. 

I knew what they would one day think as they looked back on this picture of that night. 

'You're Gonna Miss This.' 

To all these wonderful kids that Ed and I met by chance, I can't thank you enough for the joy you've brought to our kids and to us. 

Cherish these moments you have together this final semester...this final year. Your group will change as graduation comes and goes. 

'You're gonna want this back. You're gonna wish these days hadn't gone by so fast.' 

I pray you keep in touch with each other. You'll have other friends in your life, of course, and may not see each other as often.

But you'll never again have this group.

'These are some good times, so take a good look around...you may not know it now...But, you're gonna miss this.'

All the best to you. 

Don't forget Jacksonville and the Stewart family. 

I know you're forever etched in my memory. 

And I am certain...that I'm gonna miss this.

It is what it is. 

p

On The Right Track...

It took longer than I had imagined. 

I knew it would come when it was supposed to happen. I believe in that. I'm not always the most patient person, so the fact that it took almost two full years was sometimes frustrating. 

When you leave a job that you love, I think there's a mourning period. I didn't want to walk away. But certain issues are non-negotiable to me. So, I left. I've totally embraced the months I've had at home and I've never regretted the decision I made to leave.  

As I watch our four kids plan their lives and talk about their future careers, I am sure to tell them to find a job that they love. I can't think of anything better or more important to say. 

I've been fortunate to have jobs that I truly loved. I've worked with wonderful people who have become life-long friends. 

I've also had jobs which challenged me in some ways which weren't positive. I've worked with people who didn't become friends and I wouldn't necessarily want to see again. 

But, I'm grateful for each and every job thru the years. 

At this point in my life, I was looking for the job that didn't seem like a job. One that makes me want to get out of bed each morning. One that reignites the passion I have for working with kids. One that allows me to work with people I can admire and can call my friends. 

I want the perfect job. 

Several months ago, two of my husband's cousins came to our house and told me about a new daycare that they were opening with their friend. All three teachers in the Winchester school district, they had decided to leave the public school arena and go into business for themselves.

They asked me to be a teacher for them.

Not only would I be able to utilize my teaching degree, but I could work with two women who became family when I married my husband all those years ago. These cousins turned into my friends and I couldn't imagine a better atmosphere in which to work. 

I jumped at the chance. 

2016 brings not only a new year and a new business for Monica, Rachel, and Amy...but it brings a new chapter into my life, as well. 

The waiting is over. 

It took longer than I had imagined. 

But now I can say my life is On The Right Track.  

It is what it is. 

p 

You Should Be Here...

I'm a softie for sad songs on the radio. 

It's almost as if the artist is singing directly to me.

That's the beauty of music. 

It touches us all...it conjures up the memories of our lives and it brings those sometimes tucked-away feelings into the forefront. 

For the few minutes of that song, I'm taken back to the times I would do absolutely anything to recreate...if I could.

I heard a song by country artist Cole Swindell yesterday called, 'You Should Be Here.' It's one of the songs I'm talking about. I sat here, alone in my family room, and cried as I listened to words that brought lost loves to mind. 

The holidays are a wonderful, magical time. I still enjoy shopping for our kids even though they're all adults now. 

I still wrap their presents in four different kinds of paper, one for each, and count to make sure they all have the same amount to open. I know they will take turns, going from oldest to youngest, opening these presents on Christmas morning. We may not be awake at sunrise anymore, but the presents are opened like they were when the kids were growing up. 

Spill over from the way my Grandma and my Mom orchestrated Christmas morning. 

You should be here. 

My husband and I both turned 50 this year and that whole mortality monster started to rear it's ugly head. While we have been truly blessed with our children and the relationships we share with them, we are also keenly aware of how suddenly it all can change. I'm not ready for anything to change. I want to keep my family in a cocoon, all the while knowing reality doesn't allow this. 

I didn't picture losing my Grandma Daisy when I was 25. She was supposed to help me figure out how to be a wife and a first-time mom. She was not supposed to leave me. 

You should be here. 

Family's must restructure when we lose a member. No one wants to do this. But we must. 

The first Christmas after my mom died in 2002 was awful. Can't sugar coat and say it was fine or that it even remotely resembled what I knew the holidays could be. Grandma was gone. Mom was gone. I was the sole female left to lead the holiday. 

I didn't want the responsibility. Still don't. 

You should be here. 

I do my best. I carry on the traditions of the two females who made my childhood wonderful and magical this time of year. I hope our kids will find some of those same feelings and show their own children one day. 

While not a day goes by that I don't miss the family I've lost, holidays are definitely the hardest. I'm sure it's that way for everyone who is readjusting...trying to find a normal without someone they love near. I doubt it will ever feel normal again. 

You should be here. 

Merry Christmas to the ones who shaped my life and left too soon. I hope and pray you are still with us and that you truly do see everything that's going on. 

Even though that's a comfort, it still doesn't change the fact...

You should be here.  Standing with your arm around me here.

It is what it is. 

p 

Grandma's Ring...

You were one of the two women I have fiercely and completely loved in my life.

Who you were, how you treated your family, and the way you loved my grandpa are among some of the greatest memories I hold deep in my heart.

This would have been your 103rd birthday month. 

I had you as my grandma for 25 short years. 

You were the one I could tell anything to and you set standards for me which I am still trying to reach.

You saw me grow up.  You knew when I met Ed and watched as we dated and then got married.  You saw Braxton be born.

I had so much left to learn from you.  There was not enough time to learn how to be a good mother to my first child or how to be the best wife I could be.  You seemed to have it all figured out.  Granddaughters are supposed to learn from their grandmothers. 

But our life took a different path. 

Sometimes I feel cheated because you were taken so soon.  Sometimes I feel grateful I had you for as long as I did.  Sometimes our years together seem like only a distant memory. 

The last day we spoke, when you looked at me and told me I was a good mother to my 8 month old son, I felt a peace and a calm about the years ahead.  Your opinion mattered so much to me that I knew I could face the coming years without you because you had been here for the beginning...and had seen something in me I had not seen yet myself. 

I had always felt I was meant to be a mom.  I was meant to bring children into this world.  That was supposed to be my legacy.  You had given me the strength I needed to see that and fully commit. 

While I can't begin to count the times I still 'talk' to you, it's certainly not the same as having you here to answer me.  But, I'll take what I can get.  Somehow, you manage to do what you always did.  You give me that peace and that calm for the years ahead. 

Do you know that I wear your wedding ring on my right hand?  I was telling Bentley today that this ring was on your finger for the 60 years of your marriage and until your death. 

Mom wore it after...until she joined you. 

Now, I wear this legacy of love. 

Beni already knows it's hers when I join you and Mom.  I have no doubt she will make sure it passes on to the next generation.

I haven't forgotten one single thing about you, Grandma, and I miss every single thing about you, too.

You're alive in the stories and memories.  You're alive in my children.  You would have loved them.

This ring is a symbol of you which I see and I feel each day. 

When I look down at my hand, I see the impact of my aging...yet I can remember when you wore this ring and held my much younger hand in yours.  Flashes of time.  Fleeting moments.  Unbreakable bonds.

Peace. 

Calm.

It is what it is.

p

There is no measure...

We've all lost someone in our lives. 

The measure of that loss varies. 

The older I become, the more I realize how short life is.  How little time we truly have to spend with those we care about...with those we love.

When we're gone, what will we leave behind?

Will those who remain know how we felt about them?

Today marks two years since our family lost our Uncle Roger.  It wasn't exactly sudden as he had been battling cancer for several months.  Yet, the end came quickly.  We expected to have more time.  Even being aware there was a possibility he wouldn't win his battle, we were shocked when Monica called us and said we needed to come to Springfield to the hospital.

We didn't make it. 

Roger passed away just as we got into town.  We didn't get a chance to have those last minutes or those final words. 

Our kids were all at school and we had to call them.  The boys were on campus, but I remember Bentley being at a sisterhood canoe trip with her sorority.  Phone service was spotty, at best, but I was able to call her, too.  It was a terrible call to make.  She felt so separated from us and helpless.

We all did.

When you walk into a hospital to see someone you love laying in a room, lifeless, it's hard to put into words.  The family was gathered in a separate room, down the hall from Roger's, and we were able to go in, privately, and see him.  I was so grateful we were given that chance.  It's surreal to try to sum up memories, thoughts, and feelings and put them in a few sentences in a setting of sadness.  It all seems so inadequate.  How could we possibly say what we needed to?  Verbalize what he means to us in such a short span?  Impossible.

My memory of that day fixates on one vision.  It was Brenda sitting by Roger's bedside.  She was holding his hand and just looking.  Looking into his face.  Not saying a word.  Slowly shaking her head from side to side.  What struck me was the love on her face.  The emotions played out in her expressions and there was a flurry of them...I could almost see the different feelings pass by.  I remember thinking that I was witnessing a beautiful love story coming to it's earthly end but felt, deep in my heart, that it was taking on another dimension and would continue on.  No doubt.  I saw the connection strengthen, if possible, and change course.  It wasn't an ending.  It was a beginning.  These two souls are forever joined, even in his death. 

My husband comes from a large family.  Roger was one of his uncle's.  While we had always been close with Roger, Brenda, Monica, and Rachel...we became even closer as our own children grew.  They loved our four and would come to watch them in their different sporting events at JHS.  At one of Brody's wrestling matches, I remember someone asking if they were his grandparents.  They certainly could have been, as they are far more than an Uncle and Aunt. 

If you were to ask our kids about Roger, they would tell you how funny he was.  How he liked to kid them that they got such good grades because of his tutoring.  They all took Spanish and he would joke that they did well because of his expertise.  It was one of those family jokes that never got old.  He taught the kids that ice cream is essential to a happy life.  He'd be happy to know they all still eat ice cream and talk about him.  That tradition remains and, I'm fairly certain, it always will.

Vacations spent with Roger are included in some of our greatest family memories.  We all were together this past summer, the first time without Roger there, and it was tough.  He was such a staple on vacations that you almost expected to hear him amongst the Stewart voices on the beach or see him loaded down with chairs and coolers while asking everyone if they needed anything.

The measure of loss varies.

For Roger's "girls," Brenda, Monica, and Rachel...I can't imagine what it feels like to live without him in their lives.  He left them a legacy of love and that is priceless.

For the rest of us, we cherish our memories.  But those tend to leave us wanting more.  So grateful for the chance to have had them...to make them...with Roger.  Yet, yearning for more time.  More years.

No, we didn't get those final moments to tell Roger how we felt.  But, I know that he knew.  Just as we all know how he felt about us.  How?  Because he lived his life showing us.  When he told us 'to call if we needed anything,' we knew he really meant it.  He would have done anything for those he loved. 

Roger wasn't here with us nearly long enough. 

The measure of loss varies.

When it comes to Roger, there is no measure.

It is what it is.

p

Off and Walking...

My first full committee meeting and monthly Village board meeting has passed. 

Since being appointed to fulfill the term of a trustee who resigned, I have completed my co-chairmanship on the South Jacksonville Celebration and the Concert in the Cornfield.  We still have finances to go-over, comparisons to previous events to draw, etc., so I'm not actually done...but the bulk of the volunteer time is over and the hours become much more manageable now as we prepare our report.

Following the Concert, I was sworn in during a special meeting which was called specifically for that purpose.

That was a Monday.  The same week, on Thursday, I underwent an arthroscopic knee surgery to repair ACL, meniscus, cartilage, and patella issues incurred over 15 years ago with a mother's volleyball injury.  Go South Elementary Vikings!

A week from my surgery, I was back in Village Hall for my first meetings.  I was grateful to be able to 'walk in' without crutches and feeling like I was on my way to recovery.

It's been a time of trying to get-up-to-speed on the many issues facing the Village; both past and present. 

Investigate.

Involve.

Engage.

Listen.

Share.

Analyze.

It's been a speed course of Cliff Notes! 

Getting bits of information here and more from there.

Talking to people from different sides of issues to get pieces of the puzzle.

Attempting to fit the puzzle pieces together.

Sitting in the audience and hearing so many points on various topics these past several months, I thought I would have a basic working knowledge when I became a trustee.

I couldn't have been more wrong.

Until you are a trustee, you have no idea the items you face which you cannot share, and should not share because of confidentiality.  Items that the public doesn't know when they form an opinion of your votes, your demeanor in meetings, your stance, overall. 

I am a strong proponent of transparency in governmental actions.  Always have been.  Finding how to navigate the fine line between what the public has a right to know and what has to remain confidential because of legality, well, that's the struggle.  That's the teeter-totter of being in this position, in my opinion. 

I find it's much easier to sit in the audience or to stand and speak your thoughts at the podium then it is to be on the other side.  That became apparent to me after one meeting.  When a resident comes to a meeting or feels moved enough to speak and address the board, it's because they feel strongly enough about a topic (or topics) to take the opportunity to be heard; whether simply by mere their presence or by their spoken words. 

On the other side, however, we need to take those acts into account, as well as all other opinions, facts, research, etc. that impact a topic.  While individuals feel strongly about topics which directly impact them, as they should, a trustee can't do that and be doing their job well.  Individual residents have their own perception, which is their reality.  Trustees must take all of those individual perceptions and treat them respectfully and thoughtfully as they move ahead with what's best for the Village as a whole.

That is the challenge. 

While I can't promise I will always make the decisions that everyone wants me to make, I can promise my decisions will be my decisions, made after careful and lengthy self-deliberation, and they will be made in the best interest of the Village.

With that, I'm off...and walking.

It is what it is.

p

Thoughts, questions, comments about the Village?  Please email: pbstewart2017@gmail.com