Lashed By Storms

Scripture quotations are from The Holy Bible, English Standard Version,

Chapter Thirty

Making Adjustments

Judge not, that you be not judged. For with the judgment you pronounce you will be judged, and with the measure you use it will be measured to you. - Matthew 7: 1-2

  “Mike was more skeptical of Crossroads, but we were both thankful to have identified this school. My health no longer permitted the level of intensity and preparation I had previously put into lesson planning. It was time for the boys to be in a different educational environment.

            “We were relieved that Crossroads had accepted them both, and we got them back to school as soon as the roads permitted. They weren’t excited about that. But Mike and I felt they had missed enough school because of the flooding—it was time they had some stability in their lives, and we felt a school routine would prove helpful. Thankful both boys were attending the same school, we made the forty-five minute drive each way—this meant we were spending a total of three hours on the road for school.

            “Mike is a morning person, and I function better later in the day. When his schedule permitted, he would take the boys to school, and sometimes make the second trip to bring them home. When Mike was at work, there was no choice. I drove the boys to school in the morning, and then, I’d make the same trip back into Longmont to pick them up in the afternoon. None of us cared for the distance, but it was easier for me than teaching. I had done all I could, and now Mike and I would watch and wait to see how our boys would do in their new school.

            “Crossroads teachers, I decided, are brave, but they are also committed. They kept us posted on the educational plans they had put together for Noah, in the tenth grade, and Aaron, in the eighth grade. Those plans, based on the results of extensive testing the school had done, were individualized for them. This was something the school did for each student. It was so important to us, because Aaron needed lots of individualized teaching.

            “Staff didn’t know, because we didn’t tell them, that at every turn, we’d had well-meaning, well-intentioned advice from family and friends. But they were basing their advice on their experiences, and few of them had any experience working with children whose abilities didn’t fit into some pre-conceived, experiential model that had worked well for others kids. It’s difficult for those who haven’t had to deal with children who have learning challenges to understand what we were going through.

            “Not once did either of us think our boys were not loved by family and friends. Indeed. Noah and Aaron were welcomed and loved from day one. But no one understood Noah’s dyslexia, which he had overcome several years before enrolling at Crossroads, and no one knew how many times we had been told, by public school educators, that Aaron’s learning disabilities exceeded their available resources.

            “So yes, we were grateful, but also cautious, when we received that call from Mrs. Bulthuis saying they had room for both our boys. Ours was a wait and see attitude. We had been told by other schools they could help us, only to later be told that our youngest son’s needs exceeded their resources.”

            But schooling wasn’t the only matter occupying the Schlegel’s minds. Work continued at the house—they had reached a point where Mike, and occasionally Anne, could take on some of the projects, and add a personalized touch. Given her health was not always the best, there were days that just taking the boys to school, then driving back for them in the afternoon, was challenging. Anne was grateful for the days she had help from Mike, but she was feeling less and less loved and appreciated.

            “My energy would come and go—but I wanted to be a parent volunteer at the school. I had organizational skills and felt there were places I could contribute. Like other parents, we would also donate items the school requested as the need arose, things such as copy paper, pencils, notebook paper, and snacks. Students’ families received credit for those items, in addition to their donated time.

            “I had my eye on helping the school with its fundraiser, what the school called the Annual Friends Dinner. The dinner was held each spring, and it was their biggest fund-raising event of the year. Both a silent and live auction were included. The more money raised the better—Mike and I were aware of many of the sacrifices, including financial sacrifices, that staff were making. They made students a priority, and were also committed to the Christian principles upon which the school was based.

            “I was used to getting things done, but I knew I first needed to learn more about this event, so at the beginning of the 2014 school year I volunteered on a committee that helped put that spring’s fund-raiser together. It proved a good way to get to know other Crossroads parents and hear their stories. I shared a few of those stories with Mike—some of them helped us feel less lonely where our boys’ education was concerned. It also provided me a way to offer verbal support and encouragement to others.”

Finding Peace for Herself

            “On a day that I was feeling more energetic than usual, I decided I’d stop at one of the big box stores to purchase some items for us, as well as for the school. I timed my excursion so I wouldn’t be rushed to drive to the other side of Longmont to pick up the boys after school. I had packed Mike’s clothes and sent him off to work earlier that morning.”

            Anne took her time that day, strolling up one aisle, and then down another, slowly filling her cart with a variety of items, and checking her list every so often so she wouldn’t forget anything. She planned to set aside items meant for the school when she got home, and deliver them another day.

            After she checked her purchases, Anne headed for the parking lot. She had a couple of heavier bags, and found herself struggling to get them out of the cart. She loaded them and the remaining bags into the car, taking time to position them so they wouldn’t shift on the winding mountain road that led to home.

            A bit out of breath, she pushed the empty cart to a designated cart holder, and walked back to the car. As she was tossing her purse in the passenger seat, another shopper caught her eye.

            “I couldn’t believe it—a woman whose appearance resembled that of my mother, was slowly making her way to an older, mid-sized car. Her steps were slow and calculated. She appeared to be about the age my mother had been when she died, and her build and mannerisms were so like those of my mom. In fact, her resemblance to my mom was uncanny. I was dumbfounded, and couldn’t take my eyes off her.”

            Fascinated, and wondering what I would hear next, I waited for Anne to continue.

           "I couldn’t even bring myself to start the car. I just sat there, watching.

            “I relived a lifetime of memories of Margie that afternoon. The woman who looked so much like her, had only two small bags that held her purchases. I watched as she put them into the trunk of her vehicle.

            “My thoughts went back to the day I had started caring for my dad, when it should have been my mother. I started crying when I thought about my mother’s not telling me about my long-ago surgery. I remembered all the feelings I had when I held Noah for the first time and how wonderful that felt and I remembered wondering how any mother could be so wrapped up in herself to put all her energy into making life about her.”

            Anne stopped to draw her breath.

            “I wondered, that afternoon, if this fragile-looking woman had made life about herself, like my mother had. Did she ever utter those words my mother so often had—but what about me?

            “I can’t begin to tell you all the things, all the memories that went through my mind as I watched that woman. I wondered what her life had been like. Was she like my mother? Did she have children? Grandchildren? Nieces or nephews? Other family? Was there anyone who cared about her? Did she have friends? Was she alone in this world? Where did she live? How long would she be able to live there? Would her daughter someday put her in a nursing home, like I had to do with my mother?

            “And then, I watched as this aged woman again took slow, calculated steps, this time to the driver’s side of her car. She obviously was experiencing some pain as she opened the door and got in. Even her left arm, reaching to close the car door, reminded me of Margie.

            “Did she have arthritis? Had she been feeling ill? Had she been to a doctor and had she had a prescription filled? What was her story? What had life been like for her? What was she thinking about that afternoon? What would she tell others about herself?”

            Anne looked at me. She might as well have been looking through me, as she drew another breath, and continued.

              “I don’t know how long I sat in my car, just watching this woman. I didn’t know a thing about her. And as I was reliving all my memories, one thought came to me.

            “She had made choices. She was human. My mother had made choices. She was human. She. Was. Human.” Anne said each word as if it were a sentence by itself.

            “I continued processing my memories. The more I thought about the past, the more I realized I had, indeed, done all I could, to help take care my mother. I gave what time I could, ever since she divorced my dad. I didn’t have a choice—I was forced to step into an adult role when other girls my age were enjoying school, girl talk, and boyfriends.

            “I couldn’t control what other people thought of her, nor of me. I had done my best. She had made her choices, and I had responded as best I could to her incessant demands for attention. My husband and my boys came first.”

            “I began feeling my load of guilt slowly drop away. My mother was gone. I couldn’t change the past. I had done what I could for her. Had I tried to do more, I would have driven myself crazy.”

            Anne watched as the woman slowly backed her car from its parking spot. And as the car picked up speed, Anne said a quick prayer, thanking God for what this woman had unknowingly done for her that afternoon.

               “Then another thought hit me. If someone had come and told me their mother was acting like mine, my advice to them would have matched my actions with Mom. I had, indeed, done all I could—I had given her the best I could. Perhaps, without realizing it, I was giving my boys what I wished my mother had given me.”

            “As I put the key in the ignition and started my SUV, I felt a weight had been lifted. I had been able to watch that woman, and in doing so, I found myself letting go of all the negative feelings about my mom. Maybe it was because this woman resembled my mom and I had no emotional attachment to her, that I had been able to see my mom, and myself, in a different light. I didn’t know. I just knew guilt was no longer going to ride on my shoulders.”

            Anne glanced at her watch, and knew if she didn’t get going, she would be late picking up Noah and Aaron. As she steered her car towards Crossroads, she realized she was driving over the speed limit. She didn’t care. She was looking forward to hearing every detail of her boys’ day.

***
Anne never expected to experience freedom from the guilt she had been carrying, while shopping for herself and Crossroads. We never know when or how God is going to speak to us. That’s why it’s so important to have a relationship with Him. Anne did. Otherwise, she wouldn’t have paid any attention to other shoppers that day, and would have missed what God was waiting to do for her.