Homework

A few weeks ago, Noah had some homework that gave me great trouble.  He had to choose a family member and find out ten things about that person.  He desperately wanted to use my father for this assignment, but knowing that I would not be able to give him what he was looking for, Shawn and I did our very best to redirect him.

"What about Grandma?  You never got to meet her, either."
"Nah, I hear about her all the time.  I already know a lot about her."

"Okay, how about Nanny?  Great Nanny?  Denny?"
"No, I get to talk with Nanny and Great Nanny.  I can ask them anything I want to know.  And I got to meet Denny and spend time with him."

In a way, it kind of let us know that as parents, we aren't doing so bad after all.  We are doing a pretty good job of keeping the memory of my mother in law alive for our boys.  Even if they can't have her in their lives, they still know what kind of person she was.  And even though several hundred miles separate us from my family, we are active in each other's lives.

Still, Noah was adamant.  He wanted to know about my father.  What I saw written at the top of his page broke my heart:  "Ten Things About My Grandpa."  Oh, sweet boy.  I think it also made me realize how much anger towards that man I still need to get over.  I can't give my child what he needs about his grandfather because this man wasn't able to give me what I needed from him as my dad.

So, because Noah was determined (hmmm...  wonder where he gets that from??), I started to give him ten things about my father.  The things I gave him were very generic.  I honestly couldn't give Noah any warm and fuzzies, and I know that's what he was looking for.  He put his pencil down, looked at me and said, "Mom, what I want to know is, was he funny?  Was he like my dad?  Did he give you lots of hugs?   What did he do when you spent time together?"  I couldn't answer any of those questions for Noah; how could I tell my son that most of my memories include my father being very emotionally distant, depressed and suicidal?  The answer to that is, I can't.  But I also couldn't make things up, either.  I don't really remember spending time with my father, unless being in the same room in front of the tv qualifies. There are a few things my father taught me; for example, I learned what I did not want out of a marriage, a husband and the father to my children.  Again, though, those were not things I could share with my eleven year old son.

Shawn and I explained to Noah why this was such a difficult assignment for me.  We talked to him about how, while my father is my father, he's not my dad, and while he is biologically Noah's grandfather, he isn't.  He doesn't deserve to be their grandfather, and he and Avery are too good for him.  In ways that Noah could understand, we explained that my father is not a healthy person.  It hurts Noah because he knows he's growing up without something that most other kids have, but I told him that God has blessed us with so many people who complete our little family.  We talked about those people, and how I've learned over the years to look to these people as my family, and more importantly, to look to God as my Daddy.  He is the only One who is able to give me everything I need and want in a Father.

Eventually, I was able to come up with ten things about my father for Noah.  After that, Shawn and I also were able to convince Noah to switch to someone else.  He then decided on my grandfather, Denny.  We had fun with that one, laughing and crying with the good memories, many of them Noah wasn't around for.  With Denny, I was able to give Noah what he was in need of.

The story continues, however.  As I was driving home the other day, I was listening to the radio and a very patriotic song came on.  As the tears flowed, I realized there is something positive and healthy my father taught me, after all; something I could share with Noah:  A serious love and respect for my country.  My father was career military, so much of my life revolved around things associated with that.  I love America.  I am grateful for our military and the many freedoms awarded to us because of what they have fought for.  I am grateful that I can call this country 'home.'  The National Anthem makes me teary, as does a torn and tattered American flag.  I shake hands with, and thank, those who are obviously military or military related.  I can't say that if Paul weren't my father, and if he hadn't been military, that I would have this amazing love and respect for our country.

And yes, I did share this with Noah.  As he walked away from our little heart-to-heart, I heard him say, "Me too."




PS--I found the song...  Here it is.....  Enjoy!
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wSJoZiB-UGY&ob=av2e