Circling

Long, long ago I entered college with a plan to become a high school teacher somewhere in red mesa country, fall in love, and have a nice family. That’s all I wanted to be and do; it seemed simple enough at the time. Almost fifty years later I find that I have indeed fallen in love, raised a wonderful family, and was teaching at a high school school on a street named after the nearby red mesa. My life has come full circle. The journey took me places I never dreamt and allowed me to do and become the unexpected.

Some know me as Don Cram, writer; some as Doc, member of not-for-profit boards of directors; some as Father, a parish priest and cathedral canon; some as Mr C, science and math teacher; others as Pipstow, the railroad gardener; and others as Donald O. Cram, the (briefly) Nobel laureate; but increasingly I seem to be known as grandpa, and that pleases me more than I have words to describe. Which moniker you use depends on where we met along the circle.

Now the circle widens. My wife is looking toward retirement, my children are heading for middle age, and the grandchildren are soon to take over. I feel as if I’m just taking off in life. I gave notice at the huge high school and school district where I have been for years and am thrilled to be growing with a brand new public charter high school. I’m editing and completing my fiction novels for publication. And I’m relaying track in the garden.

To see what’s happening, look at my diary. Two warnings are in order: Everything there is intensely and intimately personal, and everything there is excruciatingly uninteresting.

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