Overheard in the Wolfe House #68
Peggy (dealing with rolling blackouts): Here’s my breakfast, sweet potatoes cooked in the wood stove.
Sam: Mom’s a genius.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #67
Peggy: I’m sorry for the drama this afternoon.
Sam: It wasn’t your fault the oven burned up.
Peggy: I know. But I thought I should say “I’m sorry” anyways.
Sam: That’s overdoing it, Mom.
And the winners are …
Mandy Cleveland, Jessica DeLeon, Diana Hatch, Kim Wendt, and Abby Nelson.
I was so excited as Sam picked you, and then crushed when I realized I couldn’t give a book to everyone, but thanks to all for playing!
Since we know all of you that won, we’re going to work hard to deliver the books in person in the next week …. though Jessica, we may be mailing your copy to you. Send me a good address through Facebook, would you, please?
Book give-away
Giving away five copies of the book today via Facebook. Look for the See Sam Run page on Facebook for details.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #66
Peggy (trying to divide up the chores fairly as she, Paige and Sam get ready to clean house): We each get five, no six, wait, there’s 12 still here, I’ve already picked five …
Sam: Oh, I hate all this uncertainty.
Family love
But there is no vocabulary
For love within a family, love that’s lived in
But not looked at, love within the light of which
All else is seen, the love within which
All other love finds speech.
This love is silent.
— T.S. Eliot
Overheard in the Wolfe House #65
Sound of Michael Buble “Me and Mrs. Jones” blaring from the computer as Peggy rocks forward and back
Sam: I’ve never seen that kind of dancing before. (pauses) It’s just silly.
Overheard in the Wolfe House #64
Peggy: Nice haircut, Sam.
Sam: My co-worker said I looked like Superman — but it won’t last. I have to take a shower now.
The King’s Speech
I’ve thought a lot about this movie since I first blogged about it after seeing it over the holidays. As a storyteller, I appreciated the filmmaker’s storytelling elegance and prowess.
Now, the film stands to win as many as 12 Oscars, and I am still thinking about the film and its incredible humanity. My favorite scene came early in the movie when the Bertie’s daughters beg him to tell them a story. He delivers a touching tale of self-acceptance, a story within the story.
There is something to learn, as well, in the Lionel Logues of the world. It was a gift that he learned how to help people in a trial-by-fire kind of way. What he had going for him — a quality that sometimes gets drilled out of those with more formal training — is cultivating that sense of equality in a caregiver-client relationship.
In the case of a speech therapist and a stutterer, it seems counter-intuitive to not do that. But when you think about all caregiver-client relationships, that equality applies.
Trained expertise does not subjugate any portion of another’s humanity.
Just a Little Radioactive
In one of the dozens of “grief books” that friends gave me after Mark died, I learned a helpful lesson. When something bad happens to you, people around you may react to you as if you are a little radioactive.
Granted, I probably was. People want to show that they are compassionate, but most aren’t ready for a deep walk in the emotional woods with you on a moment’s notice. It’s a strange place to be, socially. People circle around you to help insulate and protect you, but if you need someone to be with you in a big way, the list of those capable is pretty short.
And even the capable ones have their days that they just can’t.
That’s good to know. I was pretty tender-hearted back then — and still am often — so it helps to know that I scared people even more than I normally do, and to not take it personally.
I ended up spending a year with a grief therapist. I could have joined a group and got the same kind of support from others, but I recognized that my level of introspection (some might call it navel-gazing) would probably scare the people who could see the thestrals, too.
The perspective is helpful as I look back on Sam’s early childhood. People are especially challenged in supporting you because it’s not a true tragedy. As the years go by, I’m finding it easier to lay a lot of those experiences to rest, knowing that some people were trying, but what I might have been seeking was more than they had to give.
Yes, Virginia, sometimes there isn’t a Santa Claus. But, you’ve got a spine, and prayer, so you’ll be fine.
We’re going through another round of that “radioactivity” in our lives. I’m pretty savvy to it — the list of people who can tackle the topic is small, and I have had to re-arrange my life somewhat in acknowledgement of that. I’ve even overwhelmed my family from time to time. Most of the time when friends and acquaintances push for information, I tell them it’s really not suitable for polite conversation.
But I forgot that little social rule today, and shared too much with someone who just seemed endlessly curious and capable of the conversation until I got the look. I knew that look, it was the get-me-out-of-this-conversation-this-lady-is-radioactive look.