Understanding

This is a post I wrote about a year ago.  I just re-read it & was surprised at how much insight I gained from reliving that experience.
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I just woke up from the most interesting dream.  It was one of those that I felt was meant to teach me something, & I can't get it off my mind.

In this dream I was at an event.  Noah & several other children were passing stuff out at the event.  He was off doing his own thing, but I would see him now and then.  Jack was sitting in his chair & trying very hard to do what we wanted him to do...but he was a bit squirmy, as a 5 year old tends to be.  Eric was sitting next to me in his chair & had headphones on.  He was listening to the event in another language...I laughed.  We were in a BIG auditorium & there were a LOT of people there.  It was kind of like General Conference.

Anyway, I was sitting in this very comfy captain's chair...we all had big comfy captains chairs...and I begin to drift in & out of sleep.  I awoke to someone pulling my hair through the hole in the headrest of my posh chair.  It was a little girl with blond curly hair.  I didn't like her very much, to be honest...but asked her to stop & went back to my drifting.  She didn't stop.  She kept pestering me & thought it was so funny.  She was about Noah's age & I felt she should know better.  After several failed attempts to get her to leave me alone, I stood up, took her by the hand, and asked her where her mother was. 

She was a bit nervous, but took me to her mother.  When I got into this room, the little girl ran to the table where her mother was working on some sort of crafty project & sat on one of the bar stools.  She was greeted in a less than kind way from the mother, but stayed sitting there nonetheless.  I sat down & was greeted with a small amount of obligatory warmth.  The mother talked and talked for a minute & came off as being someone who was not very aware of others and not very careful about her thoughts and actions.  I felt bad for the little girl.

The mother asked me if I needed something & I carefully told her why I had come.  My tattling was significantly softer than I had initially intended it to be, but I figured I would want to know if my child had been acting that way...so I informed her in the kindest way I could.  Her response threw me for a loop.  She started talking about Noah & laughing about how silly his allergy was.  She said things like " LOL!  Well, I just think it's so strange that he can't be in certain places & that you have to be so careful!"  and "he's just so different" then "you're so strict and serious about the whole thing".  She went on and on!  It was like she had gathered all of the unkind, insensitive things that people say to us about the way Noey has to live and she was sharing ALL of them with me at once.  Plus she was laughing at us the whole time...like all the hoops we have to jump through are just so funny!

I was stunned. 

In real life, that does happen to us occasionally.  It is usually one or two at a time though & most people have some sort of boundary about how far they will take it.  It is hard sometimes, but in the end, we can usually make them our friends and help them see that we aren't trying to be different or difficult...we are actually working very hard to help our son live a normal, healthy life.  Then they usually become great advocates for Noey.

BUT, in this dream of mine, this lady seemed to be a caricature of all the misunderstanding people we ever encounter wrapped up into one.  Finally, I stopped feeling so shocked and felt furious!  I couldn't take it anymore, so I unleashed on her!  I couldn't believe the unkind harshness in what she had done.  "How dare you!?!"  I said.  "How can you be so unfeeling!?!  Aren't you ashamed of yourself?  You think we LIKE having to be different?  You think we LIKE having to do 1000 extra things everyday to keep our son safe!?!  You think it's FUNNY that our little boy can't just live a carefree life like every other little kid you know!?!  It is amusing to you that our 7 year old has to worry about dying from someone else's mistake!?!"  I didn't stop there.  "Well, congratulations to you lady!  Maybe you should look a little bit more closely at yourself!  Maybe you should teach your child not to go around pulling the hair of sleeping strangers!  Maybe you should be kinder to her so she doesn't feel the need to get attention from people she doesn't even know!  You want to criticize ME!?!  You know what I do every day as a mother?  My job every day is to keep my son ALIVE.  My job is to make sure people like you don't kill him out of ignorance!  That's what I do everyday!  What do YOU do?"

I gave her a thorough tongue lashing.  And I felt vindicated.  I felt like she deserved it, and as I walked out of the room, I was mostly glad that I had said it.

Then I walked back to my seat & it wasn't until I sat down, that I realized where we were.  That conference we had been attending was a funeral.  And the woman I had just verbally destroyed was the mother of the little boy we were there to remember.

I woke up feeling sick.  The truth is, I have wanted to say those things to people sometimes.  I have wanted to lash out at them for their misunderstanding and lack of compassion.  I do not like feeling like people think we are ridiculous and I feel hurt when people don't advocate for our son.  My pride overrules my compassion sometimes.  I don't think I've ever actually given in to that desire to lash out verbally at them, but I have wanted to.  And I have sometimes said those things in my heart later as I relived the incident.  I have felt that resentment... & resentment overshadows my own compassion and understanding.

I think it is so easy to feel hurt & picked on when people don't understand our situation.  But in all honesty, we never know what they are going through...and since life is hard, it's pretty likely that they aren't thinking about our problems, because they are overwhelmed with their own. 

Motivation through Despair

I confront my fear everyday as I take my son to school with his life-threatening allergy. Each day, I take a deep breath and suppress the fear that it may be the day that I get THAT call. The call where they tell me that he's not okay. The call where they try to calmly tell me to hurry to the school, because my son is having trouble breathing, or he is unresponsive, or any other terrible thing that can happen with his allergy. Each day I leave him there & practice not worrying about him all day long.

I've actually gotten pretty good at suppressing that fear. I can put it out of my mind pretty much right as it tries to enter. That's partly because I don't believe living in fear is good for any of us. It's also because of the people I am leaving him with. They care about him. They know him by name. They have all been trained to keep him safe and respond in the event that something terrible happens. They've worked hard to make our school into a safe place for my little 7 year old to be. I trust them. I choose to trust them.

Thursday of last week, I had the strangest feeling. I was on my way to the dentists office, and I had the clear thought come into my mind that "today will be the day I get that call." Ridiculous, I told myself. "Let go of the anxiety, Laura. You can't live in fear." So I did. I pushed that worry right out of my mind & opened up my mouth to let the drilling begin. We talked about Christmas plans and who was going where to visit family. We were making good progress on my mouth, when my phone rang. It was the school, and it was THAT call.

I left the dentists office in a hurry & tried not to drive like a maniac for the 15 minutes it took me to get to the school. I tried to remember to breathe. As I ran in, I found 6 or 8 people all standing around the front office. My little guy was sitting there with the nurse. He was sick, had fallen asleep in class, and was too embarrassed to open his eyes and talk to anyone about it. He was also having a mild allergic reaction, which was easily remedied with Benadryl. While it was all very innocent, he gave everyone a good scare. Had the nurse been at any of the other 3 schools she is responsible for, they would have had to call 911.

I left feeling confused and shaking from the adrenaline that had been coursing through my body. I was grateful he was okay and would just need to rest at home to get over whatever little virus had him feeling yucky. I was hopeful that the staff at school would see this as a silly mistake & not feel upset or angry at the fear and confusion he had inadvertently created. We need their goodwill. That is largely what keeps him safe.

They were gracious. They were kind. They laughed & smiled and felt relieved that it was a false alarm. They felt what I felt & we were all proud that the "dry run" had gone well. Now we know that the protocol works. They followed it so well. Our school is pretty amazing.

Today I dropped my son off at school. I had no worries or trepidation as we all piled into the car for the 10 minute drive. Walking into the school was fine. I hugged my boy and told him I love him, just as I do every day. I knew what kind of people I was trusting him to.

As I left the school, I had a brief conversation with the principal. Something he said stuck to me, or perhaps it was the way he said it. I heard the responsibility he carries today. I heard the weight that every adult in that school is actually carrying. They are there every day, handling problems small and large... Never a dull moment surely, but definitely routine. Each day, these people keep our children safe and help them learn. We trust them to do that. We expect them to do that. We all drive up and drop our kids off, usually exchanging a smile and a wave with the people we are handing them off to & continue on with our day. That's what we're supposed to do, right? That's the routine. We like routines. Routines are comfortable. Routines feel safe.

Then something like this terrible tragedy happens. The routine is suddenly no longer something we can do without emotion or pause. The people we trust our children to each day are suddenly more than just smiling faces waiting by the carpool lane. They are more than gatekeepers to our children's knowledge & growth. The weight they carry becomes very real. Today, I paused and looked them in the eye. I thought about the trust they have earned from us. I thought about the fact that they were there with smiling faces, waiting to greet our children today, of all days. I remembered in my heart, what I so often think in my head... What they do for us, the sacrifices they make, cannot be put into words. We cannot overstate the gratitude we owe.

As each of us grapple with what happened at Sandy Hook Elementary on Friday, I hope we will not allow ourselves to live in fear and despair. We will feel grief and pain. That is good. That means we are human. That means we have compassion & our souls are connected to something more than our own selfish needs. There are issues that need to be addressed. We can talk about violence, weapons, schools, safety plans, and most of all...the mental health issues which are far too often ignored in our country. There will always be necessary changes. There will always be ways to improve. I hope we find ways to work together and make those changes happen. I hope we find motivation through our despair. I hope we are not frozen by fear or grief, but use that energy to do some good or accomplish some goal we have had. I hope we find a way to move forward and honor those who have been lost with more than grief and pain.

I also hope we will remember all of the helping hands. I hope we will remember the people who spend their lives in service to our children, and feel peace. Today I saw them a little more clearly & I was grateful.

Aftermath

My friend, Steve Frahm, posted something today on Facebook that I really liked.  Here's his post.

"Aftermath

In the aftermath of a harrowing event, when our feelings are left raw and we have a belly-full of discomfort -- when we are anguished by our inability to effect a change in the dreaded outcome -- when we are desperately trying to quiet our desperation in the face of overwhelming feelings of helplessness -- when all actions are useless and deeds are meaningless and yet we are driven by the pain that is the motor of the very instinct that ensures our survival -- when there is no other pathway to inner peace,

WE TURN ON EACH OTHER

and fight over this and that, aimlessly, recklessly, passionately as we attempt to comfort ourselves at the expense of others.

Pro-this vs anti-that; freedom vs security; less-filling vs tastes-great -- pick your battle. Our skirmishes are just attempts to quiet the desperate helplessness that we do NOT want to feel. Winning a little verbal argument makes us feel like we are in control of our lives and our world, once again.

So go ahead and fight over gun control, (or abortion, or taxes, or drug use, or religion, etc) and bring to bear all the passion-distorted "evidence" that you want. I know you're hurting and you just need to get it out. I am your comrade, your friend, your brother. I feel it, too. I understand."

Amen

I think this is very well written piece about something we very often ignore.

http://anarchistsoccermom.blogspot.com/2012/12/thinking-unthinkable.html

Love this!