August 8, 2008

Motivated by the desire to make meaning of my mother's daily logs, which she had kept for some 20 years, and an ongoing interest in the several recent memoir controversies, I proposed a sabbatical project that would study and practice memoir writing.  Specifically, I wanted to work with my mother to write a memoir about the two of us caring for each other.  When I wrote that proposal, my mother and I had shared a home for nearly 30 years; her health was good for a 90-something; and her memory was excellent.  Unfortunately, between the time the proposal was accepted and the sabbatical itself, Mom's health deteriorated.  She moved to a nursing last June and on December 10 she suffered a severe hemorrhagic stroke.  We invoked her advance directive, and she died December 20, 2007.

I was devastated, not only by her death, but by the thought of losing a parent, a roommate, and a best friend.  I was also troubled by turmoil when 911 did not respond for over an hour, the pressure of invoking her advance directive, issues with the nursing home, and the general stress of making life-changing decisions at jet speed.  Even before her death I realized that, ethically, I couldn't work seriously with her logs for a time, because good practice demands a certain distance.  After her death, I knew that emotionally I was incapable of completing the project I had proposed within the sabbatical calendar.  After consulting with my mentor, Dr. James Hartman from KU, and another former colleague who specializes in the personal essay, I devised an alternative project that would allow me to meet my obligations to the school, allow me to heal, and protect the materials for future research.

Sabbatical Project Outcomes

The sabbatical project is located at Writing Matters!, my web site at http://staff.jccc.edu/pmcqueen There I provide the following to meet the obligations of the sabbatical project:

In addition to the work I have listed, I have written a 75-page manuscript that narrates events of Mom's last days.  It began as a daily journal, which served as a sort of catharsis for me.  The material is now revised and broken out into chapters.  I need some time to develop perspective about events and feelings.  I hope to self-publish it (using blurb.com) as a text for my family.  At this point, however, I remain too close to events to do the material justice.

I provided the Writing Matters! link to English when the project began, and I will again provide it with an annotated summary of contents.  I will also provide it for posting to the Liberal Arts list, and to the Council of Writing Program Administrators listserv.  In addition, several individuals regularly monitor my web site.  They will have access to these materials. Furthermore, the JCCC search engine is recognizing both "sabbatical project" and "memoir," so these materials will be available to anyone doing a search.  I am also willing to write an article for the faculty development newsletter, if so requested.  Normally, I would enjoy presenting sessions about my findings and my writings, but because much of this experience remains very emotional for me, I prefer not to give oral presentations on this project. 

Although working with materials dealing with my mother has been, and remains, very trying, I found the research, reading, and writing on the concepts of memoir and personal essay both cathartic and invigorating.  I've enjoyed exploring the genre of memoir, and of pushing myself to write with a more personal voice.  My students will benefit from my research and writing.

Non-academic Activities

I understand that one of the purposes of a sabbatical is renewal.  Renewal has occurred, though not exactly in the way I would have preferred.  In fact, I'm not sure that having a sabbatical immediately after my parent's death was ideal.  I was just adjusting to living on my own schedule (I had previously been unable to leave Mom alone for more than 45 minutes), when she died.  Her death meant the loss of my parent, best friend, and roommate. Having a daily schedule and the opportunity for student interaction would have had some value.   But what happened, happened, and I have coped the best ways I could.  Over the last eight months, I've learned a lot from others' thoughtfulness.  I've also tried to learn how to cope with the disappointment when people and agencies I thought I could rely on failed me.  And, above all, I am trying to take up my mentor's challenge to me: to be kind to myself.

I began being kind to myself by joining in family events.  (Because of care giving responsibilities, I had missed many special occasions over the years.)  With other family members I attended my great-nephew's baptism in February in San Antonio.  That was especially touching because this is Jack, the baby who was born only hours before Mom was buried.  This was also the first time since before Mom died that I had seen my oldest nephew.  As I recount in Snow, he had to turn back from his trip to Kansas for the funeral to be with his wife when Jack decided to come early. This was also my opportunity to meet his wife's large family.  I had had to miss their wedding.

In March, I joined the rest of the family for a shower in Ft. Worth for my youngest nephew and his fiancée. That was refreshing because I had time alone with my brother for the first day since the funeral, and I got to see Texas Christian University, my nephews' alma mater, as well as meet fellows who had cared for Bandit, a dog that started as a pup behind a bar near TCU and is now the light of my life.  In May, I joined 250 close friends for my youngest nephew's wedding in Austin.  Besides the immediate festivities, this weekend was special to me because my former sister-in-law and I re-established communication, which had been a casualty of divorce. 

Despite the benefits of this travel and family gatherings, I found myself experiencing what one of my friends calls "waves" of grief that would wash over me at unexpected times.  This was clearly depression.  I needed to get Mom's things sorted and distributed or disposed of, but I just couldn't.  I also knew that I needed to do some work on the house--nothing had been done recently because of Mom's health--but I thought I ought to get her matters under control before I began anything else.  My best efforts, though, would leave me an emotional mess.  By March I knew I either needed a counselor or a contractor.  Finally, in April I decided that a contractor made more sense, because once work started on the house I'd be forced to deal with Mom's things. 

That's what I did, and it worked.  Having people in and out every day has made a huge difference for me, as has focusing on trivial things like faucets and door bumps. The interior of my house is not only re-done but most of the rooms have new functions.  My favorite is the kitchen, which with stainless steel and tile is quite a change from the former harvest gold with a three-burner stove.  Not that this was easy.  My dog and I lived a month with a microwave and dust.  And we lived two weeks in a 4' x 11' space in the family room with every piece of furniture in the house jammed into the rest of the room while the flooring was being completed.  (I slept on a long sofa; he slept on his pillow, and we ate on the patio.) 

As for Mom's things, some former prisoners will go on the job market very nicely attired in Mom's clothes thanks to a Methodist Church ministry for women leaving prison.  And Mom's cousin, who hadn't talked to her sister in years, now talks to her because they had to communicate in order to divide up the 45 pairs of clip earrings I sent them.  Another of Mom's cousins was pictured in a Bradford, Pennsylvania paper hugging the Easter Bunny, while wearing one of Mom's favorite sweaters--one of 20 pieces of clothing now sprucing up her wardrobe. That woman's granddaughters each received an afghan that their grandmother had made and given as gifts to Mom.  And a lady I never met is walking more confidently, her daughter tells me, because the daughter bought Mom's cane for a pittance in my garage sale. And so it goes--

Without question, the chance to re-new the house was the greatest personal benefit of the sabbatical.  I needed the complete change--in house, in my focus, in people around me--after the unexpected change of Mom's death.  Besides a motley crew of craftsmen, I'm now on a first name basis with three nice fellows at Home Depot (I had never been there before June), and I have made friends with a banker whom I sort of trust.  I've also met neighbors whose curiosity got the best of them.  They have suggested that we really need a neighborhood open house:  would I like to host it this year? And Bandit, my rottie-shepherd mix, has benefited as well:  he has found the wonders of a doggie daycare, which I sought out to protect him from the dust and trauma of the construction noises.  Having met a lovely miniature dachshund there, the ol' boy seems to be feeling a bit of renewal himself.

* * *

Though the sabbatical and my whole process of renewal occurred differently from the ideal or what I would have preferred, I believe that I have made contributions to the JCCC community and my field with the materials I have developed and have made available for public dissemination.  I know that I have broadened my thinking about writing in ways that will benefit my students.  And it will be ever so nice to drive home to Lawrence on K-10, pick up an energized Bandit from doggie daycare, and drive across town to a renewed home that, for the first time in my life, looks and feels like me.

Dr. Mary Pat McQueeney
English

Sabbatical Project

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