*You get a prize (not really) if you know where the title comes from.
Last Friday, I woke up at 4a.m. This, from a woman whose children have to force her out of bed 3 or 4 times on most mornings at 7a.m. Had a coughing fit, brain woke up (good = proof I have one?) and I was toast. But, I got a LOT done. So I guess that is good.
I was going like a madwoman. Errands, malls, Karl's Sausage Kitchen for our advent calendars and genuine German chocolate. The place even smells like Germany.
ANYWAY, I was home for exactly one hour before I had to start picking up the kiddos.
One blissful hour to do NOTHING after NINE hours of doing way too much.
(FYI - if you are sick or taking care of ailing family members for a whole week anywhere near Thanksgiving on - just give up. Because there is no way you will ever catch up.)
All of a sudden, the doorbell rings.
It is my next door neighbor, Pat.
And yes, it is ironic because I watched "Just Pat" for years in college.
And I'm 99.96% sure they based this character on my neighbor.
I considered not answering it but knew she had seen me come in the house. She recently fell and broke both of her wrists and is in casts. She is definitely an independent woman (there you go - I spilled the beans) but she was stuck. She was going out for an annual dinner in Maine and couldn't
CHANGE HER CLOTHES ON HER OWN and asked me if I could come over later and help her.
"Just walk right in. The door will be open."
See the man in this painting?
He's got n-o-t-h-i-n-g on what I felt.
I said, as casually as I could muster, "I have to pick up my kids and then I'll be over."
What was I supposed to say?
I was horrified. Truly. Was I going to help her change her underthings?
Please no.
When Samantha got into the car, I told her she HAD to come with me.
I would pay her $5. I just did not want to be alone over there in this situation.
So we got home, both dreading the task before us. Walked over, I did NOT have to change
her underthings (WHEW doesn't even begin to be the right word) and it was fine. Took about 6 minutes.(Yes, I was counting. I set my oven timer for 1/2 hour and if we weren't back by then, Abby was to call HELP.) She was/is grateful.
She's got a lot of friends that are helping her, there was just this circumstance where she was "stuck" (although I came up with a few alternative solutions, but I digress).
What if she comes and asks me again? I believe wholeheartedly in serving others and also teaching my kids how to serve - but where do we draw the line? What would YOU have done?
No, really. I want some thoughts on this.
And in case you didn't know, the above painting is by Edvard Munch who is Norwegian. I wanted to buy a little magnet for a souvenir at the museum in Oslo but it was about $15. Nuts.
4 comments:
Draw the line where you think you're not the best person for the job. I like taking dinners to neighbors, but I hate volunteering in the classroom. I love donating money to Half the Sky but I hate the Salvation Army bell ringers. I love bringing a can of soup to a concert for the food bank but I hate Pampered Chef parties, so I have a rule. I don't go. Good luck! :)
A wise man once said, "We do hard things."
I know that Mark is referring to your dad (correct me if I am wrong) when he said, "We do hard things." That is true, but we also do appropriate things. If helping someone get dressed makes you feel uncomfortable, I think it's perfectly okay to tell her that you can't. For goodness sake, I helped bathe someone once and it was too much for me. Doing "hard things" helps to refine us, and you certainly do hard things a lot.
Hats off to Mark! There is a line that YOU get to draw and I think your dad would agree.
I have a vast quantity of nurses in my family, which probably skews my judgment, but I would not have batted an eye about it. I think you did the right thing, and it probably felt so big partially because of the day you were having. We do that stuff for our own kids all the time when they are little, and even wipe them. Inasmuch as you do it until the least, you know the rest. Way to go.
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