Lessons of Compassion

Jerry, Noah and Michael with their grandmother in 2006.

“Give children at least as many chances to show compassion as they have to be competitive.

Erica Layman, Mother

I’m thinking it might have been divine intervention that caused lightening to strike our house a few days before school resumed this year.  The strike wiped out every electronic device we own.  At least all the cable connected items including, but not limited to, four televisions and three game systems.  It might have taken an act of God, but finally, well into the last week of summer vacation, with nothing else to divert his attention, my fourteen year-old decided it was probably time to start his reading assignments for AP Literature due on the first day of class.  For close to three days, he was glued to a book instead of a cable driven box, and for that, I was delighted. 

Given that the assigned reading was To Kill a Mockingbird, one of my favorites, only added to my pleasure.  The story teaches timeless lessons about developing and examining our own courage and compassion.   Valuable instruction we can all learn from, let alone teenagers striving to find their way in a very complex world.

Years before it actually happened, my husband and I made the decision that we would welcome my mother into our home when we/she thought it would be best to have around-the-clock care.   Not unlike other situations we face in life, the enormity of this decision came to light in many small ways during the year she lived with us.  Not surprisingly, it was a year that required great showings of courage and compassion by all involved.

Some of those moments were heart-wrenching .  Others unimaginable.   Many were tender and touching.  Watching someone you love decline on a daily basis, surrendering their independence is heart-wrenching.  Telling your mother that it is time to call hospice when clearly she does not want to die is unimaginable.   

Last week I celebrated yet another birthday.  Among the lessons I have learned as I try to comfortably ease into my own aging skin is that the most difficult times in life often create our most treasured memories.  The tender and touching moments of that year carried us through the heart-wrenching and unimaginable ones.   

Throughout the twelve months, I fretted about how having their grandmother live and die in the next room would affect my sons.  At times it seemed unfair.  The three of them had to share a bedroom.  They had to be quiet.  There were many school and sporting events I missed because “Grandma” needed me.  They often had to be home with her when my husband or I could not.  Then one day I realized the proverbial glass was not only half-full, it was over-flowing with lessons of love and compassion.  Lessons for me.  Taught by my children.

I watched as my oldest son, checked on her every evening, often fetching and sharing a piece of fruit as a late night snack for the two of them.  The youngest tidied her room on a daily basis.  Unbeknownst to me, he had been putting away her clean clothing, emptying the trash and gathering her laundry, as well as dusting and sweeping each day for several months.  I just assumed she had been taking care of such things herself until I started to gather her laundry one afternoon.  “Leave it there,” she told me, “That’s Michael’s job.”

Still, I worried about my middle son.   He is the loud and boisterous one who seemed to bear the brunt of many scoldings … “Noah, be quiet.  Noah, settle down.”   However, he also spent many touching moments with his grandmother.  A needlework expert, she taught him to knit and crochet.  Currently, he is working on a pair of fingerless gloves that transform into mittens to wear during a winter survival expedition he’s planning for when the snow flies.   He’s an Eagle Scout with a passion for high adventure.  I don’t think he’s come across a kid yet who is bold enough to tease him about knitting.   

Still, as her health failed, I became increasingly concerned that Noah seemed to be distancing himself from his grandmother, whereas, the other boys moved in closer.  Understanding that children, like adults, need to deal with grief on their own terms, I left it alone.  Little did I realize, once again I was clueless about some of the goings on in my small house.

Just a few days before her death, I thought I heard someone moving around in the middle of the night.    Softly creeping into my mother’s room to check on her, I found Noah sitting quietly in the darkness next to her bed.  Breaking the silence for only a moment, he said, “Mom, don’t worry about Grandma, I’ll keep her company until she can get back to sleep.”  It was a school night and although he didn’t say so, I knew it wasn’t the first time he sat with her during the night while the rest of us slept.

The image of that moment will forever rest upon my heart.  Just one small act of compassion among many others demonstrated by my children that carried me through a very tough time.   Valuable instruction we can all learn from.      

  Copyright 2011 by Carol M.W. Bagazinski – All rights reserved.