It’s Okay to Cry
Had I written this post last week the tone would have been cynical and jaded. I would have had comments like, “Hang in there,” or “You’re doing better than you think” and the whole thing would have been reduced to an Amanda Wilkinson song, “It’s Okay To Cry.”
But cynicism wears old. I get tired of being frustrated with frustrating people. You know what I mean? It takes too much energy. I don’t have that kind of time.
Although, lately I have had time. It seems since Cooper left I got two extra months added into the last two weeks. I don’t know how it happened, but somehow I managed to fit 60 days into 14. Go figure. This year might be my slowest lived yet.
But two months lived in two weeks can do incredible things for a person. I’ve been able to gain new perspectives. Move forward. Forgive. (Time heals all wounds.)
I’m not harboring hateful feelings anymore toward the football coach who told me on the phone, “I don’t have time for development.” I called it coaching, but we had a difference of opinion. He explained that he’s got his “core team of players” who’ve been in the game for six years. Six years! Wow. I had no idea my son was too old at twelve to be taught the nuances of wearing molded polycarbonate padding and hitting into other players. The short story: We turned in the pads and went with soccer.
I’m only disappointed because here was an opportunity for Jonah to be a part of a team, learn integrity and the idea that you never give up. But the coach gave up on a National Championship winning rugby player from Sweden and instead of making him feel like a part of something worth striving for, he taught him to quit before you even start because some things aren’t for everyone. Well thank you. It was a loss of one kind and a gain of another. Winner of this round: Life Experience. ‘Cause life isn’t about fitting in, it’s about figuring out…figuring out who you are and who you’re going to be when the odds are stacked against you. If you can win on the gridiron of life then you will go undefeated.
And as for Maggie’s teacher, I’m over that too. I realize that some people in St. George don’t get our lifestyle, the fact that Maggie, at six years of age, has already lived in four U.S. States and three years in Sweden. It doesn’t make sense for some people. So when her teacher informed me that Maggie couldn’t participate in the class party celebrating the kids who did the summer reading/math packet, I calmly explained our situation, the fact that we weren’t here, that we were moving, that Maggie would be deeply disappointed to be excluded and sent to another classroom while all her friends were eating muffins and watching a movie. And when it looked as though things still might not go in our favor, I even threw in her dad was in Iraq. Now if that doesn’t play on your heartstrings!
“But did she do math and reading everyday this summer for twenty minutes?” was the teacher’s only response to my plea.
Umm…did you not just hear any of what I just said? She’s six. Her dad is in Iraq. We were moving. She’s new and has no friends.
Her final offer: “Write a note stating that she did math and reading everyday for twenty minutes and she can attend the party.”
Dumbfounded, I went home and wrote the note.
There comes a point when you just gotta do what you gotta do. And anyways, packet be darned, I read to her. We got a library card. I taught her what a quarter is and how to insert it into a gumball machine—that’s math! The important thing is, she went to the party. Not moving from Sweden, not her dad being gone, not our life circumstances are going to keep her from enjoying life and having a party.
Because if we’re talking math, then how about adding this up…life is hard and that equals we all need a little celebrating. Can’t we ease up and instead of excluding someone, say, come on, you’re invited, and you’re worth a party. That’s all I was trying to say. Maybe the message was lost on the teacher, but as for Maggie, she enjoyed every minute of her celebration.
Amada Wilkinson, we’ll dry our tears, we’ll hang in there; I know we’re doing better than we think. But you said it…it’s okay to cry.