blogs

I have a garden located on the side of my house and sometimes in the morning before I head off to work I take a few minutes to do a bit of pruning and watering, it seems to give me a peaceful feeling before embarking on my day.  Well a few days ago, the calm of my garden was interrupted by an unsettling experience.  You see the fence on the far side of my garden sits along a side street that is the perfect path to the crosswalk which is used by a number of 7th and 8th graders making their way to the local junior high school  The street is also used by a number of parents as a drop off point for their students rather than trying to navigate the traffic that becomes congested in front of the school  Well on this particular morning I heard a vehicle drive up and stop, heard the door open and then on full volume heard the voice of a very unhappy woman.  I peeked my head over the fence and there sat a truck and inside was a young man sitting on the very edge of the passenger seat with his door wide open and his feet resting on the sidewalk.  In the drivers seat sat the woman, the one with the voice and she was smack dab in the middle of a full blown, eye bulging, vein splitting, steering wheel clinching rant.  Deciding it was a private matter I went back to my plants and even turned on the water to add some muffling noise.  Even through the water I could make out bits and pieces of her venting, 'Can't you see this makes me late,' 'You aren't in first grade you know,' 'I forgot is no excuse,' and I even heard something in reference to that old saying about forgetting your head if it wasn't attached.

The whole thing distrubed me.

I wanted to pop my head back over and offer some fellow mom, sister in motherhood, comrade in child rearing advice.  I wanted her to know that I was a bit further along in the journey and there's two things I'd like to share.  First, it's just beginning... he'll forget to set his alarm and he'll forget to lock the door.  He'll forget to get gas and he'll forget to pick up his sister.  He'll forget to clean his room, take out the garbage and put his dirty socks in the hamper.  He'll forget to turn out the lights and he'll forget to get milk.  He'll forget to call when he's going to be late, forget to let you know he's bringing a friend to dinner and he'll forget to let you know when he won't be around for dinner.

Secondly I wanted her to know, there is a light at the end of the tunnel, ten to fifteen years from now, he'll never forget her phone number and he'll never forget the path that leads to home.  He'll never forget where she keeps the yummy things in the kitchen and he'll never forget there is nothing like a home cooked meal.  He'll never forget to respect his grandparents and other elders and he'll never forget to remain close to his siblings.  He'll never forget her birthday or her favorite dessert and he'll never forget to hug her and tell her how much he loves her.

Then she'll know that he mastered remembering the most important things.

As I heard the door of the truck shut and as it pulled away from the side of my house, I hoped that the moments of their day would get brighter and that they'd both forget the morning event.