Wednesday, April 20, 2011

Here Comes the Sun

Asherel also said, "No one is going to know you know how to draw."
"What's wrong with this?" I asked, showing her the iPod picture, "Don't you think it looks just like me?"
She just gazed silently at me.
"Well, you can't imagine how difficult it is to draw a new picture every single day," I complained.
"If you want followers, you are going to need to draw better pictures."
"This is abstract art. Besides, I am getting bored with realism."
She again looked askance at me, as though my every word were not dripping with wisdom.
"You need to talk about something new on your blog, and you need to draw better pictures or you will lose followers."

We had returned from a bikeride to CD warehouse to scout for CDs from the 40s and 50s. We intend to fill our car with music when we pick up Comer and Evelyn from the Alzheimer unit for our Thursday outing. We had found two compilation CDs of music from that era and I was excited to see if Evelyn would know the words to all those songs. While choosing the music, a salesman came over and asked if there was anything else we might like.
Asherel is always on the prowl for the Beatle movies. She has two, and wants to collect all 5 of the movies they had made. I asked the man if they had any.
"Doubtful," he told us, but led us over to where we might find them. As we stood there gazing at the rows of CDs of which not a one was a Beatles movie, he proceeded to talk about the Beatles. He looked at me as though I might know what he was talking about, the little known tidbits of knowledge.
I pointed to Asherel, "She's the one you need to talk to. She knows everything there is to know about the Beatles." (She is hoping to graduate first in her class in Beatle Studies.)
He then proceeded to try to prove me wrong. He certainly did know a lot about the Beatles, but Asherel claims she knew every thing he mentioned.
"They were my parents' era....like yours," he said, then quickly added, "Though my parents are older than you."
"Probably," I answered.
"They were born in '53," he said, "And so they grew up on the Beatles. That was what they played when I was young, so you know how in those teenage formative years, that music stays with you."
"Yes, I was just a very little girl then," I said, since I believe "very little girl" is until the age of about 25.
Then he started branching out into discussing music from every decade, and why it was so good.  I listened to very little music, outside of the old musicals, so I was mostly lost, but nodded and said "Uhhuh" at the appropriate spots.
When we left, Asherel told me she loved talking with people about that stuff. She added that I looked a little confused as he was discussing music of each decade. Nothing gets by that girl.
"I was confused," I told her, "I mean, I had heard of all the groups he talked about, but I probably couldn't name a single song of any of them. I was too busy bike riding, and finding stray animals, and working on the farm down the street. I didn't listen to music, and I never wanted to do what everyone else was doing."
I guess I am at heart, cantankerous.
"That's the good thing about being homeschooled," she said as we biked home, "I don't have to like what everyone else likes....and I don't worry about it."
I smiled. That is one of the benefits, relieving the horrible burden of peer pressure.
"But if I ever go to public school, I will be light to the world."
At least that is what I thought she said, with the wind blowing across my ear drum. For the few seconds before I clarified that statement, I thought all my struggles, my trials as a mother, as a teacher, as an example were coming to fruition. I had a child who wanted to be "light to the world." Harps began sounding in the background, and a heavenly choir began singing, "Hallelujah!"
"Asherel, that is wonderful!"
 She looked confused.
"Mom," she asked finally, "Why do you think it is wonderful that I want to Beatle-ize the world?"
"I thought you said 'Be Light to the world'."
"No. Beatle-ize the world."

I had been on one other adventure that day. Since Asherel had the day off for Spring Break, I went to hunt for sandals that would not blister my feet. I tried several stores and held my sore feet up to salesman after salesman.
"Can you help these?" I asked. None could. They tried, but all said a narrow footed, high arched, overpronated, swollen pinky toed individual such a me was a very hard customer to please. And then I went into the expensive store, the one I don't go in unless driven to the heights of despair, or lured by a "SALE!" sign. The big letters S-A-L-E called to me from 10 miles away. As I walked in, I saw row after row of high end sandals half price. I saw one that I loved, with a molded high arch, soft leather straps, and beautiful. No  way it would fit...or be in my price range. I flipped it over. It was half off. I could afford it. He brought me the shoe and I walked around. It felt like walking on pillows.
"I"ll take it!" I gushed.
Then as I was the only one in the tiny store, I asked him how he had been.
"I thought you were closing shop, going out of business. I was surprised to see you open again."
"Well, I have had to get really lean," he said, which may have explained all those half price sandals at the height of the summer sandal buying season.
"I have been dealing with my mom. She has alzheimers." His face was lined, weary, sad.
I put the shoes in the box and looked at him, "That's hard. I have a friend with Alzheimers. We have discovered that she feels much better, more normal when we play music from her era for her. She knows all the words. Have you tried that? Sometimes those old memories from music of their childhood helps."
I found out that his mom was in a home 2 hours away. He faithfully visits once a week.
"Alot of people ask me why I bother. She doesn't know me, and they tell me she doesn't care if I am there or not."
"Oh, she cares," I said, "She may not know you as her son, but she knows you as someone who is kind and is lifting the drabness of her day, doesn't she?"
He nodded.
"You know, the hardest part is my dad just died of Alzheimers 5 years ago, and then Mom was diagnosed."
He shook his head.
"That's just not fair," I said.
"No, it isn't fair."
As I paid for the shoes, I told him, "You are doing the right thing. You will never look back with regrets."
"That is exactly it," he said, "I wouldn't want to look back when she passes and feel I had neglected her."

I had suggested music to the man with a dying mother. I had bought some shoes that might help him keep his shop open. I smiled as I thought of Asherel's statement. It wasn't much, but I was Beatle-izing the world as best I could.

Little darling, it's been a long cold lonely winter,
Little darling, it seems like years since its been here.
Here comes the sun
Here comes the sun
And I say, it's all right..........

Psalm 23: 3-5
4 Even though I walk
   through the darkest valley,
I will fear no evil,
   for you are with me;
your rod and your staff,
   they comfort me.

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