Find meat in the life's-lessons sandwich
My husband and I are now part of "the sandwich," that place in our lives where we are caring for aging parents and for our children at the same time. It complicates and confuses things to have so much going on, but, as we often find, it provides an opportunity for learning beyond what can be found in a textbook.
It started with a phone call, the kind of call that stops your heart and convinces you to act. We had a family discussion about our priorities and obligations to one another and then made plane reservations.
As the adults pondered end-of-life issues, the children had questions of their own. "Can I take my toys?" and "Will the seatbelt on the plane hurt my neck?" Once their fears were alleviated and our bags were packed, we set off.
In our quest to become unschoolers, we don't give our children a lot of tests. This trip is one big mid-term exam for all of us.
Part one of the test is the social skills assessment, and it started at the airport. My daughters were all manners and charm. My 2-year-old was all boy. I had packed carry-on bags carefully, omitting anything that would make noise or cause destruction. My son responded by tearing a page from the in-flight magazine, rolling it into a drumstick and whacking everything within his reach.
Next on the exam schedule: compassion. The children are not directly participating in the care of their grandfather - he is in ICU - but they are learning how to be considerate when Grandma is grieving. They sense that they need to pick up toys to be out of the way of her walker. The older ones keep the younger ones entertained.
Part three of this exam is the test of adaptability. Everything in our lives has changed for now. It goes beyond getting used to a new time zone. Visiting relatives, even under better circumstances, provides an opportunity to learn how to get along with others who live differently. Coming to stay in a time of stress means that the rules change often. We try to be quiet, sensitive to others, but it doesn't always work. Tempers flare, tears flow. We adapt.
A backyard full of snow and the mysteries of Grandma's attic occupy my children as the adults sort out what must be done from what can wait.
The final lesson in our life skills exam is that life goes on. In the chaos of the unknown, there are routines to be kept. There are dinners to make, clothes to wash. Keeping up with the small things helps keep us grounded, and it gives us something we can do when we are helpless to do the one thing that even the doctors can't do.
As we show our children that life goes on, I want them to know that they are an important part of this process. I also want them to know that their contribution is valued and appreciated. Once again, we find lessons in life that are compelling and that can't be found in a textbook.
Our assignment this week, and one I hope my readers would consider taking on as well, is to use the special dishes on an ordinary day. Find something you have always wanted to do and do it. Separate the stuff that is important from the stuff that is simply ... stuff.
Rose Godfrey is a speech pathologist and homeschooling mom in Hallwood. Her homeschool blog can be found on the Appeal-Democrat Web site at learningathome.freedomblogging.com.
