Showing posts with label Brazos County. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Brazos County. Show all posts

Thursday, December 31, 2020

Reflections on 2020, Prayers and Wishes for 2021

About 2 am on New Year's Eve day, I left the computer and set my alarm for “early,” not wanting to miss a minute of productivity on the last day of the year. That’s how holidays flow for freelancers.

You work when you can and when you can’t, you figure out what you can work on next until more work appears. I’ve been blessed with work to the point that on these “holidays,” I am still found at the computer, my choice, my pleasure.

So when the day unfolded, I had no idea what awaited me that would bring me such excitement and amazement.

Throughout the holidays, friends-as-family have been abundant in reaching out and keeping tabs on me, how I’m doing, making sure I never feel alone.

I call this a blessing—and I’ve had so many of them during the holidays this year. This morning my checklist only had two items on it, but the text message that came through added a third, which is not unusual. That blessing would come later in the day.

The year 2020 has been what my late friend, Dr. Thyra Plass, used to call “a whale of a year.” Meaning open to interpretation, but at the minimum—overwhelming. As the past 365 days have passed, the mere mention of the year 2020 causes people to wrinkle their faces, as they jump immediately to people and things we have lost in our lives. That’s natural as for many of us the ravages of COVID-19 have impacted us all directly and indirectly.

Children have been resilient in their willingness to adapt to new kinds and forms of education; my favorite 8.5-yr-old pal shared, earlier this summer, that he was not going to have a traditional birthday party this time due to ‘coronavirus’ and didn’t have a single ounce of regret in his voice, only acceptance. Said the entire word better than most professional news anchors, too.

At the time I recall thinking about how I wished others were more stalwart about the limitations our world had been dealt to combat an unanticipated foe. His ability to cope with disappointment about his party hit me like a ton of bricks…natural leaders are born and this is how they grow up. This year we’ve seen leadership of all styles from exemplary to horrible and at the end of the year, all any of us want now for the next year are essentially empathy, kindness, and health and safety for all whom we love.

That’s not much to ask for and we also need it as much as want it. Thus, 2021 is welcome and as everyone scrambles to find black-eyed peas to cement the deal, so will our hearts seek out validation for understanding how we all managed to make it through last year.

The first line of defense includes our medical and safety emergency front line teams—from doctor’s offices with gifted nurses to hospitals and specialists, to police, fire, and 911 teams, our community has been fortunate in leadership, including Dr. Seth Sullivan and our municipal leaders in Bryan, College Station, and Brazos County, who stood together in unity, addressed issues early and head-on and always gave us reason to trust in their word, and we followed their directions for the most part.

All year long we’ve seen and heard of neighbors’ kindnesses to each other, the amazing things that our community has done in collecting food for the Brazos Food Pantry, serving hot meals to our healthcare providers, making sure children had meals at school with continuity, and our own BTU utility gave us 15% discounts two months in a row (at least) to help with the costs to survive COVID while jobs were eliminated, reduced, or strained.

Overall, we have emerged stronger and even more empathetic as ever. It’s not safe to take chances and we are still safest at home, but our spirits have been uplifted with every telling of tales of kindness shown on a regular basis. It’s one of the reasons, of many, I remain here as my home. In 2021, we will continue to make progress towards achieving health and returning life to normal for as many people as we possibly can, because we all work together to do that. People take time for each other here, and one dear friend is constantly my inspiration as I see what all she does for so many.

Other friends are strong in their faith, others strong in their actions, more are strong in prayers for those in need, and on and on it goes. We all have our special gifts to offer and every action and gift means something to others. Meeting the needs…that’s what you all do for all of us here.

It was close to noon when I scanned Facebook and saw a post from a young woman who was reaching out to anyone who happened to be reading—it was on a private group page that will stay private for purposes of maintaining anonymity but that person, whose name was previously unknown to me, posted that she had reached her very lowest point and felt close to ending her time on earth, in need of a professional to talk to today but not knowing how to find one.

Within minutes, group members posted phone numbers, prayers, two strangers said she should go to the ER and she could private message them her phone number and they would meet her there so she wouldn’t be alone.

New Year’s Eve; the end of a year in which despair was an operative emotion, where depression was so common none of us want to admit it was real to us, but it was, and here is an honest soul reaching out. The answers were overwhelmingly positive and uplifting and one more time, love was shared, hope was offered, and faith flowed freely. A final update on the post tonight confirmed that things were better for her and that good care was being given. Prayers were answered and it was the miracle of the day. Turns out it wasn’t the only miracle of the day.

Later in the day I received notice that a family whose loved one they’d been expecting to pass away today had occurred, and we made arrangements to meet this afternoon. Before I left the house, the strangest feeling came over me. I had 3 Russell Stover chocolate candy bars on my dining table, remaining from stuffing little cherubs’ stockings. I looked over at them and thought about taking them with me, but I couldn’t figure out why. I ignored the impulse and headed to the garage. At the laundry room, I paused, turned around and shook my head as I picked up the candy bars and put them into my jacket pocket and off I went.

In my five years as a celebrant, I have never taken anything but my pen and notebook to meet with a family. So, as I walked in and greeted the family members, I had no control over what I said or did as I reached into my jacket and pulled out the candy bars and said, “These are for you!” and I had no more wondered why I offered up the candy or where those words had come from, but I had my answer in the blink of an eye. The looks on their faces said it all. “He loved chocolate” they both said in unison!! “It was his favorite thing!” The visit was wonderful as they shared the many reasons they loved him.

Then, on the way home I saw a text where a favorite memory had been shared on Facebook, which reminded me instantly of another God moment that had happened, January 2016, when my best friend was reflecting aloud about something she never knew about her parents' lives before she came along. We can all relate to not having asked enough questions while they were here.

Another of those fortuitous happenstances produced an answer in the blink of an eye as we went looking through some things. Presto, that answer appeared almost like magic, a supernatural gift, particularly as her parents had been gone for many years. Some five years later, that memory came up again today—a reminder that miracles happen every day, and that memories of those miracles are new once again, each time they come to mind.

I can only conclude that because so many of us have texted, Facebook IM’d, posted, talked on the phone, Skyped and Zoomed through 2020 about how we couldn’t wait for this year to be over, that there is a collective sigh of relief as we turn the page onto 2021. But I’ve determined to remember all of the good things that happened as people gave from their hearts, of themselves, in faith, hope, and love for others as we banded together to survive.

The lessons of 2020 included the loss of several people close to us, unexpectedly, some from COVID and others gone too soon to cancer, as well as a few other reasons. Alumni from my childhood school (grades 1-12) remain close some 50+ years later on yet another Facebook group. This year we learned of the passing of some of our classmates, each one of us impacted by the loss of one of us. One especially stood out in our hearts and minds as he was the unofficial “Dean” of the group—a wise attorney and brilliant humorist named David. David had gone to Keystone School for 12 years and was another school "lifer." Brilliant, wise, and funny as heck, David always knew the right thing to say. He was a caring, brilliant attorney, and the word “wise” should be specially reserved for David.

It was memorable that Supreme Court Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg died on Rosh Hashanah, the “cusp” of the end of the year, symbolic in its own right as she is considered “a person of great righteousness.” David, a man of decided righteousness, died the next day, September 26. Surely, the Justice needed a solid right-hand attorney to work up responses to cases that would eventually find their way to us. Justice is ahead for 2021.

Throughout this year, I, and so many others in our community, have been blessed by the example of faith of a young 18-year-old woman, Rebecca, whose life serves more than just one purpose in this world. Coming from the loving family of faith she does, if ever you considered yourself a person of faith, you've been praying for her, joining in the legions of us who know her story.

For those who approach life from a different faith journey, just the fact that she is among us still today would cause you to understand that when logic, reason, and rational thought fail, faith fills that gap and explains so many things. Why this precious child and her family have had such a decade of suffering is a question I will one day demand answers to, should I gain entry into the great beyond.

It hurts to know what she has endured, and still, and yet, this child is an angel on Earth, sent in part to remind us that we must believe in things unseen, any way we can find our way to do so, because love and faith explain why science and medicine cannot.

Answered prayers are the only reason that makes sense, and her Earthly work is not done, not by a long shot. She plans on graduating from Harvard and all wise bets are on her to do just that, as she received word of her early admission already.

Yes, 2020 was a year we bid farewell to many in our lives whom we would prefer would still be here with us, anticipating the great things to come in 2021. They should be here with us to see how things turned out, to experience the good times that are hopefully on their way. It just emphasizes that each moment with those we care about, love, and call our family—real or extended—is precious and we should not take a moment for granted.

This coming year comes with no guarantees and indeed we face many challenges to come, but with faith comes hope, and in hope we find love, for real, for always. May each of us be blessed in all the ways that we need to succeed to have a healthy life. May we remember always to be kind. We may not know how others feel but we can have empathy, a quality long missing in 2020 as we all had plenty of reasons to miss it in some leadership, and may we seek and model truth in all that we say and do this year. Happy New Year!

Lots of love and thank you to each of you who have filled my life with joy, hope, and friendship,

Dawn Lee

Sunday, March 29, 2020

When COVID-19 Becomes Real in Your World, How Do You React?

For the past three weeks I’ve stayed atop all the developments of the pandemic that is fueled by the coronavirus called COVID-19 by faithfully viewing TV news channels that report true facts calmly without hysteria, frankly rather than with duplicity, and with practicality rather than delusion. I’ve been proud of Bryan and College Station and Brazos County civic leaders, who acted early and wisely to contain activities that put our community at risk. And I’ve been blessed by friends as angels calling to check on me, bringing me thoughtful things they know I would be out of, and Skyping, Facebooking, IMing and texting daily to share their love. It’s been painless and has only reinforced love for me so far. But that all changed early this morning when the impact of the coronavirus landed safely in my Mayberry backyard, in the death of TAMU Mathematics professor Jack Bryant.

I became aware of the passing of our county’s first victim of COVID-19 only by the name when it was announced. When I saw it, I immediately flashed back to my days as an engineering undergraduate student, and he had been my instructor in what had to have been the most challenging of all the math courses they required, Math 308, Differential Equations, known to most as “Diff EQ,” and named by me as “Difficult Equations.” Derivatives made sense; integration was evil. I made a D and I was so proud of that D. It meant I hadn’t flunked! But I never once forgot that I had a tremendous instructor, Dr. Jack Bryant. Even when I was living in “D-land,” I didn’t blame him or his teaching. In fact, he was a great teacher.

Despite his seemingly unique appearance, this man had the most logical mind, strong voice and gracious manner. As in my lifetime, I’ve been (perhaps unfairly) characterized before as a “Typical Chemist” (code for “nerd”). Similarly, Physicists and Mathematicians are often described as having hair that might not always be combed, a proclivity for t-shirts, sweat shirts and hoodies. In fairness, that’s true of many, but not all, Math folks. Let's face it, science is creative and that means thinking outside the box and intelligence has nothing to do with hair, wild or perfectly coiffed.

After graduation and an engineering career, when I returned to Aggieland to work in academe, I had the responsibility for fundraising for the College of Science. It was part of my job to introduce prospective donors to key faculty members and to help them find common ground and interests in funding and then get out of their way as they forged their own friendships and funding ensued. At the time, the Mathematics department head (long ago deceased) was a truly off-the-charts personality.

That Department Head’s attitude veered from Wally Cox as Mr. Peepers to wild-eyed mad scientist in five seconds flat if you happened to trigger his temper. Simply saying hello could do the trick. Then you had his number two deputy, Assistant Department Head, as the calm, easy-going type who had a joke for you, a smile, and he would out-talk the dean out of funds destined for another department without his even knowing it. He was the good cop to the department head’s bad cop. And all the faculty members were supposed to function normally under the rather rocky steering of bright but unpredictable "leaders."

And yet in the Math department were these wonderful professors who taught and did research and had wonderful, normal, happy lives, though they lived quietly and far under the spotlights usually cast on others in the college. Their headquarters was, at the time, Milner Hall that was freezing in the winter and stultifying in the summer, and that was on a good day. Today they’re in the newer Blocker building. No matter where they were, you could almost count on seeing Jack Bryant any day on campus and he’d be walking to his next destination no matter how far.

He walked everywhere and he was easily recognizable, most comfortable with his early silvered hair below his ears, that hip 1970s look up north and out west for sure, and he had a devotion to Converse basketball shoes and a Polo shirt in the warm weather and a sweatshirt over it when it was cold. And he was one of the kindest people you’d ever want to meet. A brilliant man who didn’t have any trouble discussing any topic with anyone. He was a tad shy though, so if he looked slightly to the right or left of your eyes, he was just thinking on both sides of his brain, and you still had his full attention.

His career began in Wichita Falls where he graduated from high school in 1953. He earned his undergraduate degree from the A&M College of Texas (as we were called then) in 1958; a B.A. in Math and in 1962, he earned his M.S. degree, also in Math. He then enrolled at Rice University in advanced mathematics studies in 1961-1965. He received his doctoral degree from Rice on June 5, 1965. Jack’s dissertation topic was “Theorems Relating Convolution and Fourier Series.” As are all dissertations, new and groundbreaking work was expected and achieved; his graduate advisor was Richard O’Neil, another renowned mathematician.

In September 1964, Dr. Bryant was hired to teach Mathematics at Texas A&M, and in 1990 was named Professor Emeritus. During his career at A&M his research was supported by NASA and others know far more about his areas of expertise than I. He addressed students by their last names, preceded by Ms. or Mr., the way you’d expect in a northeastern school, and it was nice that he actually knew our names as there were close to 40 of us in the class at the time.

Like any Aggie who remembers a professor who stood out in their minds as memorable, the memories become associated with the way we were progressing in our goals and dreams on our own ways to graduation, careers and life beyond Aggieland. He loved A&M and this community enough to not only want to come back but to make this his permanent home. And although Prof. Bryant’s granddaughter was quoted (in the KBTX story online tonight) as saying that her grandfather would not have wanted to be “that kind of statistic,” the fact is he is the first person whose name I knew and whose passing hit home in a personal way. Today’s kids would say, “This just got real.”

COVID-19 today is a real thing in our community. We have tremendous city leaders and county officials who are proactive and in these times of sorrow, loss, lockdown, shut-in, we are finding reasons to reach out together via virtual means via Facebook, FaceTime, IMs, Skype and Zoom.

We are not to fear, we are not to panic, we are to stand ready and stand together, reaching out (at a socially safe distance) for our friends, neighbors, and loved ones, to let them know we know they’re here with us and we are here for them, too. Everyone can do something, even if it is “Just to pray” for the safety and security of all first responders, emergency personnel, health care workers, and teachers who face online challenges, self-employed people and those whose financial stability has been upended with no warning. There is no “Just” in prayers—every prayer helps.

Our childhood passes away from us every day. We lose family members, mentors, neighbors and friends of a lifetime, in our lifetime. Prof. Jack Douglas Bryant will not be remembered as a statistic, the “first” to die in our county from COVID-19. Instead, he will be remembered as a fellow Texas Aggie, a bright Math prof, and a kind and gentle soul.

May his family be comforted at this time of sorrow and loss. As we all prepare to transition from this life into another eventually--now, or down the road--it’s about the amount of love we can share while we’re here that can make an impact. The number of “I love you’s,” and “I appreciate you’s,” and the “Thank you’s” can always be increased, exponentially in fact. The way kindness begets other kindness…it’s exponential; it has to be. And someone can likely find a way to put that in an equation. I won’t integrate it, but I will find its derivative….it’s called love.

Rest in Peace Dr. Bryant. Amen.