Be Brave

In the wake of September 11, I had to find new reserves of courage.  Many family members and my soon to be husband worked in buildings that were on lists of potential targets for terrorist attacks.  I taught in a school that literally was in the shadow of the George Washington Bridge, another possible target.  Even worse, my intended had just sold a project that required him flying to Ohio for a few days every week.  This was hard to reconcile with the images of the hijacked planes drilling through the towers.  Yet, I had to somehow find the courage within me to send John off every week with a kiss and an "I love you.  Have a nice uneventful flight."

In the wake of the shootings last Friday, I need to find new reserves of courage again. 

I have to find the courage to send my children off to school.

Monday morning was tough.  I pulled up to the front of the drop off lane.  The aide opened the car door.  Alice unfastended her seatbeat and stepped out.  Her "Bye Mom" and my usual, "Have a great day.  I love you" filled the air.  The car door shut- the unsaid signal for me to drive away so another car could take my place.  I drove away and burst into tears the second I turned out of the school's driveway.  My heart litterally ached for all the parents who lost their children on Friday not long after doing what I just did.

And then on Tuesday night, Alice said something that reinforced why I needed to be brave.

Tuesday was one of those hustle and bustle days filled with school, play, homework, and a party.  The Girl Scouts in our town threw a holiday party for all the Daisy troops.  The girls were told to come wearing their holiday finery.  There were mulitple stations with different crafts.  There were tons of delicious looking snacks.  There was music and singing.  I dropped Alice off and did some errands until the party was over.  As we walked to the car, Alice buzzed with excitment and joy.  "Mommy," she said, "I had the BEST DAY EVER !"  I smiled and listened to her extol about the wonders of her day- the practicing for her school's holiday sing, playing with her friends after school, the party she just attended...the list went on. 

I listened, all the while smiling at her joy.  Later that night, after bedtime kisses, I realized that this is why I had to find courage to let her go out into the, oftentimes, scary world.  Yes, like many of us, I did contemplate finding an isolated corner of the world and hiding out after Friday's news.  I saw on Facebook several people considering homeschooling.  However, when you think about it, the "BEST DAYS EVER" do not happen in isolation.  They happen in places like malls, movie theaters, high schools, colleges, and elementary schools.  They happen because we are out in the world with our friends and loved ones.  Although I had made an unspoken promise to protect my children when they were first placed in my arms, I also vowed to give them the opportunity to have as many "BEST DAYS EVER" as possible. 

I know this is not going to be easy; but, if I have learned anything from my parenting experiences so far, nothing about being a parent is easy.  I just have to follow the immortal advice: "Keep Calm and Carry On" and add another piece to it: "Be Brave." 

  

Communion- It Does the Body Good

Since Alice started CCD this year, John and I have become much more consistent about going to church.  It is nice to be back.  I am not a born again or anything like that; but, it is nice to carve out some time out for quiet contemplation weekly.  Still, despite these generally positive feelings about church, I still find going to be a little stressful. 

Angela is a crapshoot. 

Unfortunately, my strong belief in God does not mirror my faith in weekly mass being uneventful.    This uncertainty began three years ago during Easter mass.  During the profession of faith,  Alice pledged her alligence to Satan.  Just a few weeks ago, Angela split my lip during the kiss of peace.  I bent down to give her a kiss on the top of her head and she jumped up at the same time.  My lower teeth rammed into my top lip and split it open.  There is nothing like dashing through a church with blood shooting from your mouth. 

Regardless, ever the optimist, I go to mass each week wondering if this will be the beginning of uneventful mass attendence.  We did not make it through this week without an incident.  Thankfully, this one was more humorous than bloody. 

Little Ms. Chatterbox (Angela) noticed all the people in front of us lining up for communion.

"Mama, where are those people going?"  she asked.

"They are going up for communion," I answered.

"I go?"

"You walk up with me like you have done before, but you cannot receive communion until you are older," I informed her.

She looked thoughtful for a moment while she watched the people returning to their seats.  "Mommy, communion made all those people big and strong."

I chuckled and told her that it might have sprititually but not bodily.

I Think I Learned the Universe's Lessons

I find it funny that despite being out of the classroom for six years I still associate certain times of the year with the writers I covered.  Late Fall and early winter was always when I would teach the Transcendentalists to my sophomores.  The backdrop of colorful leaves and brisk winds seemed fitting for discussing Nature and its power over the Soul.  Additionally, nothing screams the need to simplify life as much as the hustle and bustle of  holiday preparations.

The last few months of 2012 have caused me to think more and more about these two men and their messages.

In October I had my gall bladder removed.  Thankfully recovery was smooth and uneventful.  However, the pain, the fear of not getting a diagnosis immediately (did I mention the agonizing pain?), made me realize how much I take my body for granted at times.  I expect it to do what I want it to do when I want it done.  Losing that for a short time made me realize how fragile we all are.  Each step we take without pain is a blessing.  A surprising realization from this time was learning how much folks really do like me.  I was stunned by all the phone calls and visits from people stepping up to lend a hand be it making dinner for the family, doing laundry, or picking the kids up from school.  I felt so humbled by this outpouring of love.

Hurricane Sandy hit.  Nothing like a Mother to knock some good sense into a person.  When power returned and I could see the true extent of the devastation of many communities, the message of what is truly important resonated throughout my being.  I am so proud of the way communities have banded together to help out their neighbors.  I have no doubt that the shore will come back and be better.  Perhaps, the better will be in large part from this stronger sense of community and a new understanding between the distinction between needs and wants. 

Finally, the horror that unfolded in a small Connecticut town.  I cannot watch the news without crying.  Earlier in the day, I was at the local public library looking for some good early reader books for Alice.  While I browsed the titles, I became friends with a little two year old girl.  For some reason she decided I was worthy of her friendship.  I think it was because I was sitting on the floor at her level and I smiled when she walked by.  Much to her mother's mortification, Ella kept bringing me toys so I could have something to play with too.  Ella left and a  little boy around four began to orbit me.  He saw I had a Sid the Science Kid book in my pile.  He very sweetly asked for my help in finding some other ones for him.  Ever the teacher, I got him the books and we talked about a few other titles he might like. 

How could someone hurt a child? 

This is the stage when they look at you without judgement.  If you smile at them, they see you as a friend.  If you have a few kind words to share, they love you.  If you help them find a book, they view you as a hero.

How could someone destroy this?

I realize, too, that the intensity of my reaction stems largely from the fact my girls are in the age bracket of many of the victims.  My heart aches for those affected families.  Since yesterday  I have called on God many times to give those poor people strength.  They are living a parent's worst nightmare.  I cannot imagine life without the girls.  John and I joke around that we look forward to college because the house will finally be quiet and clean; but after watching the news yesterday, I sat in the house relishing the mess and the volume.  I hugged and kissed the girls more than usual.  Therein is the most powerful lesson of all...my family is my life.  Perhaps this gets lost in periodic sleep deprivation, tantrum cycles, whining, reprimands and the like, but the girls (and John, of course) are different chambers of my heart.  I cannot imagine life without the unit working together.  Obviously, we as a nation, need to figure out what we can do to make sure these outbreaks of violence stop.  As we figure out the path to take, let us not forget to hug those we love a little tighter.  Make sure to kiss a little more.  Say "I love you" more frequently. 

Thoreau and Emerson were right about so much...as was Robert Fulghum:

"And it is still true, no matter how old you are, when you go out in the world, it is best to hold hands and stick together."