[2020-11-25] Empathy
Because of COVID and my being immunocompromised as I undergo cancer treatments, I no longer go to stores. That means that grocery shopping falls to my husband, Chris.
To keep things simple, I've been putting the shopping list on Google Keep, a lovely app that syncs across our devices and allows any member of the family to add items to the list.
However, since we've switched from paper to the app, my husband has been coming home having purchased only some of the items on the list. In the old days, I would have solved that issue by popping over to my closest grocery store to pick up anything that was missed, as we needed it. But since that option is not available to me at the moment and because I'm trying to limit the number of trips to the store from our household, I will admit that I've felt a little frustrated.
So this morning, in my loveliest voice, I asked Chris whether he would prefer that I write the list out on paper. I wasn't sure that the electronic list was working. He acknowledged that the font in Google Keep on his phone is very small and that he gets tired of straining to see what's on it. That's understandable.
In addition to the challenge of reading small print, my husband has ADHD, so it's easy for him to miss things like STOP HERE, my code in Google Keep indicating that he's supposed to buy everything up to that point. He wasn't scrolling on his phone, so he didn't see the whole list.
My son, Shane, also has ADHD. He's open about it. In fact, a few years ago, at the invitation of the Learning Disabilities Association of Ontario, he spoke to parents about his struggles with the learning disability, sharing his story and his strategies for coping with ADHD.
I'm proud of both Chris and Shane for how much they have accomplished despite having ADHD. In my son's case, he not only completed a four-year undergraduate degree in university, but also continued studying for another three years to obtain a law degree and pass the bar.
So why am I thinking about the trials my husband and son face and the occasional frustrations that I experience in living with them (and they, no doubt, with me)? Well, yesterday, I had an email exchange with a friend who is a new stepdad to a teenage boy. He really liked Barbara Coloroso's concept of catching kids doing things right, and he asked me to share any other parenting advice I had.
Two things immediately came to mind. The first was a poem that my son had had on his wall for the longest time: Just A Boy by Edgar Albert Guest. The second was a story that I discovered just a few days ago when reading Dale Carnegie's How to Win Friends and Influence People: Father Forgets by W. Livingston Larned. In both cases, the fathers are measuring their children by adult standards.
"Just A Boy" begins with this stanza:
Get to understand the lad—
He's not eager to be bad;
If the right he always knew,
He would be as old as you.
Were he now exceeding wise,
He'd be just about your size;
When he does things that annoy,
Don't forget, he's just a boy.
"Father Forgets" acknowledges:
The habit of finding fault, of reprimanding—this was my reward to you for being a boy. It was not that I did not love you; it was that I expected too much of youth. I was measuring you by the yardstick of my own years.
The exchange with my friend and my reflections today motivated me to find a poem that captures what it's like to have ADHD. I found Take my hand by Andrea Chesterman-Smith. Each stanza begins with a different Take my hand ...and come with me, ...and walk with me, ...and talk with me, ...and stand by me, ...and learn with me, ...and listen to me, ...and look at me.
The opening and closing stanzas are as follows:
Take my hand and come with me,
I want to teach you about ADHD.
I need you to know, I want to explain,
I have a very different brain.
Sights, sounds, and thoughts collide.
What to do first? I can't decide.
Please understand I'm not to blame,
I just can't process things the same.
Take my hand and look at me,
Just forget about the ADHD.
I have real feelings just like you.
The love in my heart is just as true.
I may have a brain that can never rest,
But please understand I'm trying my best.
I want you to know, I need you to see,
I'm more than the label, I am still me!!!!
Being at home and unable to go out and do things for myself is new for me. So I'm more reliant on Chris and Shane (as well as Mel). I know that I have felt annoyed when I've asked for something and it hasn't been done. I've tried not to let my irritation show, but I haven't always succeeded.
So today's post is a reminder to me to appreciate all that my family does for me and to try to walk a mile in their shoes. Empathy for Chris is what led to a conversation about the electronic list and a discovery that it wasn't working.
And the story has a happy ending. Chris went shopping this afternoon with his paper list and got everything that I had written down. What a good boy! 😉
