Penelope Ayers is a memoir about the year I spent getting to know my mother-in-law, a beautiful, gracious, lonely New Orleanian who discovered one February morning that she has cancer. When she reached out for help, three generations of her fractured, colorful family responded, and in so doing, we all experienced grace and healing.
I wrote this morning about Kathleen Norris’ The Quotidian Mysteries. Part of Norris’ point is that creative thoughts often arise in the mundane details of life. While folding laundry, an idea pops into her head for a poem, or she remembers that she wanted to write a friend a note, or she recall the words of a Psalm and considers them anew. These things happen for me. I enjoy solitude. On a Myers Briggs test, I split right down the extrovert/introvert line. I get energy from people, but I also draw energy from time all by myself.
But I’ve had too much time alone this year. We moved to Connecticut, and so we left behind 7 years of relationships at work, school, and church. The weather plus pregnancy pushed us inside for much of the winter. And now, with Marilee needing me more or less around the clock, I still feel somewhat homebound (although spring makes it so much better, doesn’t it?).
I’ve been thinking lately that one of the blessings of quotidian life–every day life, life in laundry and taking out the trash and cooking dinner–quotidian life is not blessed only in the solitude and contemplation that it affords. Solitude can easily lead to loneliness. It is also a blessing to live the quotidian life in community. I can’t email while holding Marilee or changing her diaper or folding her clothes. But I can easily attend to those everyday tasks while talking with a friend who is in the room with me. I can’t really talk on the phone while Penny and William run around the yard. But I can chat with another parent from our neighborhood as our kids kick balls and run and jump and every so often need our attention.
Quotidian actions fill my days, and I am trying to be attentive to and grateful for the rhythms of life with a newborn. And yet I long for more of those moments to be ones that extend beyond my own thoughts, my own creativity, my own memory. I trust it is a holy longing, to share the ins and outs of household work with others, to watch our children grow together, to experience the quotidian in community.
posted September 30, 2010 at 11:17 am
That’s where we come in Amy Julia. We advocate moms are working day after day to ensure our children are embraced for their gifts rather than judged for their differences. We know that society will be poorer if they reject our children.
posted September 30, 2010 at 2:10 pm
thank you for this perspective Amy Julia
it reminds me of a man on our block named Miles– a sweet guy about our age– you make me want to pray for him in a new way– and think about how i can approach him differently in terms of viewing him as someone with something concrete to give– not just as a nice person– who greets everyone he sees with a smile– but someone with potential— honestly– I haven’t been sure about how he “fits in” to the micro-community of our block– he is not your typical urban dweller– and I would love any thoughts or resources you have about this..sometimes it feels easier to love and relate to children that are “different” because all children are so unique and have different gifts– but adults can be more challenging because they are peers–and we expect something of them– and thus less “other” than all kids– Relating to Miles as a person first–who is made in God’s image– even a peer– and not “someone who is different” is a challenge for me and I thank you for the reminder and perspective.
posted September 30, 2010 at 2:16 pm
Catherine, Thanks so much for asking. The thing that helps me the most is the change in perspective, asking myself the questions, “What does he have to offer? What is there for me to receive from him?” It helps me to open myself up to the idea that God has something to give me through him, and it humbles me before him as well, which helps to create more of a sense of equality rather than a hierarchy. The other thing that comes to mind in your particular situation is to ask him. “Miles, what do you think about our neighborhood?” He might have something to say. But if words aren’t the way he communicates, then you’ll have to ask God for the eyes to see what he has to “say” through his actions instead. I hope that’s a tiny help…
posted September 30, 2010 at 7:04 pm
The grandmother of a child with down syndrome spoke to me of the misery that is the life of her daughter. “They are very clingy”, “thank god that the school system takes the child during the day”, “it is very difficult”. After these inspiring words, I realized how blessed I am that my child with down syndrome is not surrounded by this negativity. And I must add, this “grandmother” was incredibly vocal of her perception of her granddaughter. I was shocked, dismayed and sad for her reaction for I have no doubt that it was genuine. I was also puzzled as to her need to share her comments with me.
While I do not question that she was being truthful, I find that my experience is the polar opposite of the dark picture presented by the grandmother. Her perception of life is fully hers, and mine is fully mine… two opposite views.
I am so glad that my daughter has been loved and welcomed into my world…. my circle of friends, family and neighbors. Their love for my daughter I have never taken for granted, but this recent discussion makes me treasure their love all the more.
posted October 1, 2010 at 7:19 am
Good points all! The heart of inclusion is just that! You know that there is a 31 for 21 going on?
posted March 17, 2011 at 1:27 am
It is extremely important to treat your disabled child as normal as you can. Take extra care, give them love. Making them feel they are a part of your normal life will certainly give them the boost to enjoy life.
http://www.thebrainhealth.com/mild-autism-stepwise-portrayal-of-symptoms.html