The Greatest Gift

The Greatest Gift

Lately I’ve begun feeling overwhelmed. There’s nothing I can really do about my situation right now so I walk around feeling helpless. I can’t even escape when I sleep. I either dream about driving a car whose steering and brakes are broken causing me to careen wildly, or I wander through streets that look familiar but are strange combinations of different cities that I’ve lived in. I walk and walk, always at night, and always finding that I have lost my way, my wallet and my phone. I don’t need a psychiatrist to tell me that I’m feeling out of control.

In the midst of all this I met a friend that I hadn’t seen in a while and began complaining about a cold that I thought I was catching. She answered that she couldn’t afford to get sick since her 22 year old daughter was going through chemotherapy rendering her immune system nonexistent. She went on to tell me that a few months ago her beautiful daughter had been diagnosed with breast cancer. My ridiculous complaints sat in my throat like ashes as she told me what she and her family had been going through since this horrible disease had moved into their lives. All I could do was listen and hold her hand and try not to cry.

I can’t stop thinking about her. I keep hoping that I will develop a sense of perspective that will shake me out of my fog. But someone else’s misfortune never makes yours lighter. In fact it makes you feel even worse since now, not only are you not feeling better, but you feel that you have no right to your silly problems. Adding guilt to a situation never improves it.

Work is partly responsible for my bad attitude. I spent last year in a honeymoon daze of euphoria. I even wrote a column about the community center family and how I was aching to become a trusted part of it. Last year I managed to get the school working, hiring good teachers and building trust among the students. It was a heady experience.

This year the first chips appeared. I had succeeded in becoming a part of the center family only to discover that it was in danger of imploding. Last year I had seen the brightly painted outside, this year I could trace the cracks. Everyone seems to be angry with everyone else. Trust and camaraderie are gone. And then because I’m a neutral party (or as my boss Mike calls me, Switzerland) everyone has been coming to me to complain. So once again I listen and nod my head saying little but getting sadder with each word.

I thought at least the school was doing well but then my class began changing. Whereas last year I had the same students all year, this year my class seems to turnover every week. Trying to teach a musical-chairs-class is not easy. You’re never sure who was there when you taught what and you’re always repeating yourself or leaving someone in the dark. Plus the class demographic has also changed. I’ve gone from teaching mostly middle aged women to young, restless men in their teens and twenties. These guys pick things up more quickly and get bored more easily. By the end of three hours I’m ready to crawl into bed.

And the cherry on top? My best teacher is leaving for a better job. Greg has taught GED for over 20 years. He is a master. I’ve posted the job for two weeks now but it isn’t easy finding one person who can teach top level literacy and math. Crying is beginning to look good to me right now.

My favorite day of the week has become Friday and not just because it’s my day off. A couple of months ago Steve told me that he was going to start cooking dinner one day a week. I was thrilled. We decided that Friday would be best since I spend my entire day running errands, and not having to cook dinner that day would be wonderful. So now he researches recipes on-line and I look forward to a new dish every week. It is heaven. Not having to do everything myself, to have someone offer help without my having to ask for it—is the greatest gift that anyone can receive.

And then I remember all the times that Mariel has walked the dog and vacuumed and baked, and when Lisa has cleaned and cooked and Steve has filled my car with gas, or fixed something that was broken, or picked up my library books and cleaning, and I realize that these are the gifts that I cherish and never forget—the unasked for blessings. These are what lift my heart. And then yesterday Mariel gave me a magnet that said: “I am fairly certain that given a cape and a nice tiara I could save the world.” She said that the minute she saw it she knew it was me. And suddenly a bit of the fog lifted.

I can’t save the world on my own. I need friends and family who happily give me their time and their love. I need whimsy and humor to keep me grounded and perhaps a cape to help me fly. And tomorrow I’m going to buy myself a tiara.