Last Day of School

When was the last time you thought about elementary school and those last few days before the start of summer vacation?  Open classroom windows, sorted textbooks, empty desks and bulletin boards and clean chalkboards signaled what was about to come. Even the noise on the playground seemed louder. Waking on that last day and riding the bus to school was wonderful. The bus was roaring with talk about summer fun to come. The last bell of the day would ring and everyone poured out of the school chasing one another and the days to come.

I have always loved seeing the small pranks graduating 8th graders and high school seniors would play. Seeing ties lining entrance hand rails or forks filling the front lawn of the school signaled graduation and an earned rite of passage.

Every year as June arrives I feel an excitement matched only by snow days. The coming summer seems as endless as the opportunities for fun and exploration. Visiting friends and family, car rides, vacations, amusement parks, cookouts, baseball and soccer games, bike rides, visits to the library, boat rides, fishing trips, kites, go-carts, camp outs and sleeping in all seem new and real. Possibilities are endless and days never seem to end. Sleep and meals become pauses to gain strength and replenishment for the next day and every day becomes a weekend day.

This year when your child finishes school take time to revel in the way he or she sees the world. The end of school signals the arrival of summer. A summer filled with limitless choice bordered only by imagination. A place where dreams come true and opportunity and laughter fill the air. Don’t sit back and watch. Jump up out of that chair. Grab a sandwich and a cooler and discover the world with your child. Ask about their dreams and join them in the freedom this summer will provide. By giving your child encouragement and entangling yourself in their fun and excitement you will not only see the world through their eyes but also find and relive all the joy of past summers. Don’t waste a minute! Sit down or go for a walk with your child tonight and start planning all the rituals, rites of passage and absolute fun you want to pass on to your child and to your child’s child for this summer and every summer to come. Hear the bell. Summer is here.

Star Trek

In honor of memories lost and memories gained I want to share a memory with you in honor of Memorial Day.
This weekend while watching the new Star Trek film Star Trek Into Darkness I remembered a big mistake I made during my freshman year in college. It happened in a paper I wrote discussing The Martian Chronicles and the television show Star Trek. I was completing my first semester in college and a term paper was due for my favorite class, English Colloquium. Our grade was determined by class discussions and a term paper. Weeks and months passed and no topic excited me. One morning I awoke and knew the title: “Hopes and Fears as Written and Portrayed by the Author of The Martian Chronicles and Star Trek.”
After finishing my writing, I waited anxiously for a meeting with my teacher to discuss the term paper. I was proud of the paper I had written. When we met, he handed me my paper. I immediately saw there was no grade on the paper. I looked at him with a perplexed look as he began to ask me many questions about my paper. We talked about the hopes and fears of man and the difference between a reader’s and an author’s perception. After almost two hours he wrote an A on the cover page and handed me my paper. He told me he had enjoyed our discussion and looked forward to reading more of my writing in the years to come. He told me to take some time and read his comments. I put the paper in my backpack and headed off to my next class.
That night in the cafeteria I was talking to a friend about my paper when he said to me, “Those stories are not written by the same author.” I ran back to my dorm, grabbed my paper and read my teacher’s comments. At the end of my paper he had written Ray Bradbury – The Martian Chronicles and Gene Roddenberry – Star Trek. Until that very moment I thought Roy Bradbury had written Star Trek. My heart sank. He wrote next to the names, “Joe, mistakes happen. Always follow your dreams.”
Through this mistake my teacher taught me the power of understanding and the importance of fairness. Life for us and for our children is about learning from our mistakes. That day I realized we learn more from a big mistake than a big success, and it is our ability to learn and respond to such failures that define and enable us to achieve our greatest successes. The next time your child makes a mistake remember how being fair, kind and non-judgmental provide your child the greatest opportunity to learn.

Change

When a child is born parents are confronted by the power of change. A new family member forces the building of new relationships and a change in existing ones. You must have asked yourself many times before your child was born what would be the most important difference in your life? You certainly answered that question differently from one day to the next. On joyful days you thought about all the fantastic events and trips you would be part of together. On days when you were tired you likely wondered where you would find the energy to care for and protect a child in your already busy life. These questions and concerns are not only natural. They are helpful. The emotions they raise are part of everyone’s life and will be part of your child’s. Only by recognizing and responding to these emotions will you be ready to parent your child.

The first step to understand these changes is to understand your present and prior relationships and your own role in these relationships. Were you the caregiver or were you the one being taken care of? Did you participate in reciprocal relationships or were you the one who directed or was directed? Each of these questions must be answered if you are to prepare yourself for the changes brought by a new child. Once you understand your own relationships you will be better able to respond to the new ones. You will also be able to decide how and if you are willing to adapt to meet the needs of the new relationships.

As a parent you will at times feel you are on an escalator heading up between floors and there is no way to get off or slow your passage. You may try to turn around and walk backwards but your way is blocked by many people heading up the same escalator. You will feel as if your life is preordained and your choices predetermined. You will feel as if the past has inexorably led to the present and your future is now being determined not by your own personal dreams, aspirations, passions and interests but rather, by the events of the past. This linear and simplistic mindset although logical is not always true. The future you desire is affected the present. You must avoid the fixation where one thought or idea blocks your ability to come up with new ideas to change your future.

As the seasons change the world you see out your kitchen window presents numerous examples of renewal and rebirth. Change provides the opportunity to realize the bidirectional promise of the past and the future. In fact, just as future deeds and promises are sustained and invigorated by the past so to the future can reframe the past. Many view the past as unalterable and a direct cause of the present, yet, each of you can recall lessons learned in the future that brought a perceptual change of past events and memories. In this way the future clearly affected your past.

The past and the future are all experienced in the frame of the present. The present serves as the binoculars you use to look forward or backwards in time. In this way both the past and the future are orphans. As orphans, each are fostered by the present. It is your decision whether this effect will be enriching or limiting. If you live your life as if unraveling a spool of yarn there will always be a passive acceptance of what is to come. Yet, you use the same analogy and imagine yourself knitting a sweater. If you found as you finished a new row that the spool of yarn is wound too tight, you have the power to re-spool the yarn. You could also allow the yarn to be rewrapped loosely and now the knitter can easily without effort or constraint continue to knit and space the individual knits exactly as she wishes. In this way future, not past perceptions, changed the present.

So what should you do? As a parent seek out change. Change will be the natural resource to produce the opportunities of life that both you and your child need. Do not fear what is to come. Allow what is to come to alter and produce what you not only want but also what you need.

A Mother’s Love

Do you remember the combination of abundance and fearlessness you felt when you were in your mother’s arms? Today’s newsletter is about mothers and love.

In my office I hear and see acts of love every day in both the words and actions of mothers, who when confronted with a loophole of sadness forgo misery and find boundless love and happiness for both themselves and their child. Last week I saw one of the purest acts of love I have ever seen. The touch and words of a mother demonstrated for me the meaning of love.

As I opened the door and walked into my exam room I saw a mother lifting her teenager with severe cerebral palsy up onto the exam table. She held her child with an embrace of love and strength. Her movements were strong and graceful. Liberating her child from the confines of the wheelchair she transformed my exam table into an altar. She slid her right arm from beneath her daughter’s legs and reaching up caressed her child’s face.  As she smoothed her hair and swept some loose strands behind her right ear, she leaned close and spoke as she looked into her eyes. Her soothing voice was musical yet soft as well as powerful and tender. The words I did not hear, but the love I did see.

She turned and looked at me, still bent over her child. She smiled and turning back to her daughter said: “Look who is here to visit with us today.” I walked over, touched her daughter’s foot softly, and we both smiled as her daughter laughed loudly.

That day I saw a mother’s capacity and capability to yield without breaking and liberate without commanding. This mother showed me how gentleness mediated by love could free her and her child from the rigidity and calamities of the physical world and allow weakness to become strength.

As I said goodbye I realized in a world where appearance and reality increasingly collide with our wishes and dreams it is the fearless and humble power of a mother’s love that can enlighten, empower and reunite each of us.

Two Parents

Most of us can remember the last time we saw an act of unconditional love but when was the last time you saw a life of unconditional love?

In my office I am privileged to witness acts of love and bravery. Every day I see parents with boundless awareness of the needs of their child. These families have helped me understand how to replace sadness and doubt with joy and loving acceptance.

This past week I was very busy.  Hospital and night call, inpatient rounding and daily office visits took their toll.  I was tired and thinking about the upcoming weekend autism walk at our local state park when two loving parents brought grace back into my life.

As I walked into my exam room and sat down on a stool I saw a mother holding her young son.  He broke away from her grasp, fell to his knees and tried to bang his head against the floor. His father reached over, pulled him to his chest and cradled him in the safety of his lap. His son fought and screamed as his father endured repeated head butts to his chest. The mother placed her hands on the knee and shoulder of her son.  She caressed him softly speaking to him with a voice devoid of fear and filled with love. The boy’s voice quieted as he relaxed into his father’s arms.

After I examined their son the father asked if he could take his son outside for a walk while I talked to his wife. As he walked out the door holding his son’s hand I could only think of the teamwork and cooperation in this family’s life. I turned to the mother and asked how she was doing, and she told me how difficult this was. I saw a tear in her eye and resolve in her face. We talked about solutions and jointly made a plan. I touched her shoulder as we left the room and told her to call me if I could help. She turned and smiled. The tear was gone.

The next day at the autism walk I watched a thousand families walk by in a parade of courage.  I knew each family that passed would continue to face daily obstacles beckoning fear. Yet, looking into their eyes, I saw how the unconquerable power of love fueled each of them for today and all tomorrows. In that moment I understood how extraordinary events have the power to awaken within each of us the capacity for extraordinary courage and endless love, and how the actions of two parents would remain within me forever.

The Boston Marathon

Have you ever wondered why one person helps and another turns away?   Although there will never be one answer to this question I do believe the power to choose is within each of us.

This past week I was called during the night to admit a child having trouble breathing due to asthma. She was two years old and was responding well to medication but needed to be hospitalized.  After finishing the admission I returned to bed thinking about treatment options and as frequently happens could not fall asleep.  I went downstairs for a cup of tea to allow my mind to settle. I usually sit in the dark at the kitchen table for a few minutes and then head upstairs; but something told me to turn on the television. I clicked the remote and the Boston Marathon bombing flashed across the screen. Split screen views and a ticker tape narrative instantly described the insanity of this life-ending event.  A finish line forever linked to the carnage of so many by so few.

Yet, watching the screen, I was overcome not by the bombing itself  but rather, by the brave responses of so many who chose to act in the face of destruction.

I saw police lines fray but never break as officers turned towards and not away from the blast. As runners stopped, swayed or fell, a wave of responders swept to the billowing smoke. I saw two soldiers tearing away wooden barriers clearing a path to allow rescuers to pass.  Volunteers, police and firemen ran to the blast that now shrouded their lives. Medics, doctors and nurses labored to save lives while bystanders and responders cradled those who could not move and guided or carried those who could.

Watching these acts of love I felt pride for each responder who freely chose the care of another over their own safety.  I thought about the parents of each responder who chose to act. I realized such actions bounded by giving rather than receiving are the hope of every parent.

Heading up to bed I thought about the power of love which was so visible in this unfinished marathon. As I climbed into bed I realized we are more same than different and no matter what age, occupation or station each of us through our power to choose has the ability to reach out and help another.

Newborn Nursery

I love rounding in the newborn nursery.

It was dark as I drove to the hospital. The birds were beginning to sing and traces of shade hidden snow reflected in my headlights. In the nursery a nurse wheeled in a bassinet with a newborn for me to examine. She looked up at me with an engulfing gaze filled with wonder and amazement. I wondered what future sights those eyes would behold and who she would choose to become.  Her breathing was soft, measured and smooth. Her arms held close to her chest with her fingers delicately resting on a soft receiving blanket. As I raised her in my hands her lips seemed to move slightly as if trying to speak. I held her softly and felt her warmth as she settled on my shoulder. Time stood still as she joined a parade of other infants I had held over so many years.  Infants are our greatest gifts.

After finishing my exam I talked to several new parents. Tired and excited, each was radiant with a mixture of joy and fearful expectations of what was to come.  We talked about infants and how parent self-care is the most neglected part of newborn care. We talked about car seats, hand washing, infant carriers, sleep patterns and feeding options but mostly we talked about nurturing, intuition and trust. We discussed how perfect parenting practices are a mirage since every child is born ready to engage life.

Our society is increasingly portrayed as a violent culture devoid of trust and founded on selfish individual desires. We are bombarded with media reports telling us what we as parents must do if our child is to grow up healthy, smart, strong and protected. This fear is based on lack not plenty. By instilling helplessness and anxiety in parents such fear hides endless opportunity that is within each of us.  I believe such actions steal life from every child no matter what challenges their physical life might demand. Our love, affection, attention and encouragement provide the foundation for freedom, respect and the power of choice that lives within every child. We are temporary guardians who hold and protect each child waiting for the real fun to begin.

When was the last time you looked into the eyes of a newborn?

Room 101

I had not thought about Room 101 for many years.  This room changed me.  The children who entered 101 every school day taught me how humility, acceptance and giving are our greatest gifts.  This past Easter weekend a teenage patient of mine who spoke with smiles and laugher passed away.  The joy of his life and the power of his resurrection made me think about Room 101.

In high school I volunteered and worked in a classroom for children with severe cerebral palsy. I became familiar with neuromuscular disorders and all types of assist devices. Tables, chairs, wheelchairs, standing boards, communication devices and all types of adapted feeding equipment became my stock and trade. What I learned most, however, was the power of touch.

We had many visitors to our room. College students often observed. Most visitors watched silently. A few asked questions and almost everyone smiled seemingly overwhelmed by the physical disabilities they saw. I remember one day someone asked me: “Is it hard to work with these children?” I shook my head and went back to feeding a snack to one of my friends.

As an aide my job was to run the changing room and keep all the children clean and dry. Throughout the day I changed diapers and after lunch and snack would spruce them up. I became a master of diapers and bibs.  When I told my friends what I did most would say: “I couldn’t do that.”

Throughout college and medical school I continued to work with special needs children. I supervised playgrounds, worked in a daycare and during my last year of medical school taught summer school in a class of special needs children. The children and parents I worked with during these many years taught me more than any book or teacher.

Children with special needs do come into the world wanting to bring sorrow or pity.  They do not want us to look away, talk softly and live in the past. They want us to laugh, dance, love and live life with them. I believe they are our greatest teachers and our greatest treasures.

The Crosswalk

You could see how much he loved her.

One of my greatest teachers taught me parenting is about teaching by example and learning how to follow your child’s lead. I have read countless books about the importance of modeling and being attentive, responsive attuned and sensitive to the needs of your child. Yet, it took an encounter on a crosswalk for me to understand the real meaning of these words.

My wife and I were driving into town this week to go dancing. We were talking about dance leads and how we communicate our various dance moves through touch and hand movements.  Lady Gaga was playing on the car stereo while we were stopped at a light. I looked ahead and there they were, father and daughter. A tall muscular man with broad shoulders was holding his daughter’s hand as they crossed the street.  They smiled, laughed and looked at one another. In the car our music played and the winter wind blew but I swear I heard them squeal with delight. Their eyes gleamed as they shook their heads back and forth as if saying “no I am right” to one another.

It was not so much the gentle way his large hand carefully encased and caressed hers or how his arm stretched and his knees bent to allow their hands to meet. Rather, it was the way the world compacted into a small container of two beings, he and his daughter. Certainly, he was aware of the stop-light, the cars, the blowing wind and the upcoming curb but all of these were transient and disappeared within his daughters grasp.

He looked at her and she at him. They talked, giggled and danced across the street almost floating until she hopped up on the curb. Just then he turned and gave me a thankful nod for giving them extra time to cross. As he smiled so did I while watching them hand in hand dance away.

As a parent you will have countless opportunities to tell your child what to do, when to do it and why to do it. Yet, no matter how numerous these opportunities are they always come to an end. Each of us must replace this telling with listening and showing just as this father did. In this way lessons learned by your example, your voice, your touch, your patience and your loving support will never end.

Parenthood is a dance. As my wife and I pulled away from that street corner and a new song came on the stereo I realized each of us dance best when we remember how our leads change forever the lives of the children we touch.

Milk and Bread

I am always amazed by the places I find love.

Love is something we read about in books, hear about at church services and talk about with our children and spouses. The true meaning of love, however, is often best seen in small or invisible acts that happen every day. As I have grown older, the grace of age and the love of others have made these acts more visible to me.

Recently, on the way home from work I stopped in a neighborhood supermarket. There was only one aisle open and as I stood in line waiting I started talking to the man in front of me. We smiled and laughed about our short shopping list. I had a loaf of bread and he had a gallon of milk. He said all we needed was mayo and bologna and we were set for dinner. We both laughed. He told me he lived around the corner and was looking forward to getting warm. As we talked he kept blowing into his hands and rubbing them together as he cradled the milk in his arm.

While we talked he never stopped watching a young mother and her child in line ahead of us. The woman was barely twenty and her child looked to be almost four years old. The child was standing next to her mother and was holding on with one hand to a stroller her mom was pushing. She was wrapped with a furry hat, scarves and gloves and had on white princess boots. She stood next to her mom with unflinching silent patience. This mother had the same milk and bread we had and a package of butter, some peanut butter and jelly and a container of laundry detergent. As the cashier rang up her items she searched through her pockets and realized she did not have any money. She turned to the cashier with the grace of a queen and asked if her items could be put to the side while she crossed the street to her home to get the forgotten money. I looked outside at the snow and wondered how she could even push the stroller through the snow let alone make that trip again.

In that instant the man in front of me reached into his jacket, handed money to the cashier and gave the two plastic grocery bags to the mother. She placed the bags in the stroller and thanked him softly. He smiled and said he was happy to help. As she headed out of the store, he paid his bill, wished me well and pulled his hat and gloves on, grabbed his milk and was gone.

I paid my bill and headed out to the parking lot. Just as I reached my car I saw my new friend again. He was walking next to the mom from the store. She was holding the hand of her child and he held several bags of groceries in one hand and a folded stroller in the other. I sat in my car and smiled. Although it was still dark and the snow was blowing I was warm.

We do live in a world filled with love and people who care for one another. You just have to stop and look.