Hello,
Megan, Pam’s middle child,
has temporarily hijacked this blog because I need to tell you a story.
I am 31 and a teacher,
down in the Florida Keys on Spring Break. My lovely parents are kind enough to
let me come crash their party since they have spent the winter down here, and
some of my dear friends also joined us. If anyone out in blog land wonders if
my Mom’s ideas about family and kids are for real, take this as evidence: my
adult friends were MORE excited to come hang in Florida because my parents were
going to be there.
So, last night, my dear
friend Katie and I decided to partake in a self-generated Keys tradition of
filling a backpack with beer (though tonight we decided to class it up and
bring a bottle of wine—because nothing says high class like chardonnay in a
camouflage cooler backpack) and biking down the road about 4 miles to watch the
sunset. We checked the weather, and though it showed storms for later that
night, it said we were in the clear until 10pm. Off we went, pretending not to
notice the somewhat ominous dark clouds creeping ever closer over the Florida
Bay. Jokingly I told Katie, “Don’t worry. You have met my parents. If anything
happens I can promise you they will come blazing down the road in that minivan
to get us.” Katie cackled and we kept going.
The sunset was less than
amazing (see mention of massive dark storm clouds above), but the company was
lovely, as was the wine. Slowly, we noticed the temperature drop just the
slightest as the wind kicked up. And then, as ocean storms tend to do, it went
from nothing to all hell breaking loose in a matter of 3 minutes. Katie and I
scrambled up the rocks as we saw lighting start to flash in the distance, hopped
quickly onto our bikes, and started to peddle like hell. Wind gusts off the
ocean slammed into us, practically blowing us over, and we both squinted pirate
style in a vain attempt to see anything at all as the rain blasted us. In an
attempt to lighten the mood, Katie hollered, “Well… I guess this is going to be
a character building ride tonight!” We laughed nervously as we got increasingly
uncomfortable. Katie worked very hard to count the seconds between lightening
strikes and thunder booms to reassure us both the storm was still far off as we
peddled as fast as we could. However, that mathematical weather genius did not reassure
us as the space between flashes and cracks quickly went from 10 seconds, to 8
seconds, to 6 seconds. Then, it was no longer a joke. There was lightening all
around us. We could not see anything and could barely stay on our bikes. I
yelled curse words into the wind and got nervous for real when, all of a sudden,
we heard the reassuring sound of a mini van car horn. Blazing off the road and
onto the bike path in full rescue ranger mode came that red mini van, piloted
by none other than The Chief, with Pamcakes hanging out the window hollering at
us to jump in. Bikes were thrown in the trunk. Katie and I were dying laughing
because we knew, the whole time, that if things got really bad, that mini van was
going to show up. Because even if you are 31 years old, if you need help, your
parents are going to be there for you.
Over and over again, as we
laughed our way back to the house, my Mom just kept saying, “Well duh! We love
you… there is no way we’d leave you out there!” Over freshly filled wine
glasses, Katie nailed it. She smiled and said, “You know, and that’s the
difference. All she said was, ‘because we love you.’ It would be so easy for
them to have been really mad at us, or to shame us, or just get angry. But they
didn’t… they just led with love and were glad that we were ok. And that’s the
difference.”
And that really is the
difference. I knew, my whole life, that no matter what I did (and trust me, I
did some really stupid things), that mini van would be there. However, just
because parents who always led with love raised me, doesn’t mean I didn’t get
my ass handed to me when I needed it. They led with love at every turn, but
they also made it damn clear where the boundaries were and made us face the
consequences when we needed to. What they never did though, was shame us for
making a mistake. And that really is the difference.
Katie and I are both
teachers, and though we have no children of our own, we spend our days watching
kids flourish, struggle, grow, adapt, and learn. We work to create classrooms
that revolve around a mindset similar to “Because I love you,” and see the
benefits of that every day. Our classrooms are full of kids that will take
risks, see failure as an opportunity, lead with dignity, and trust us enough to
try really hard because before anything else happens in our classrooms, we take
the time to make sure each kid knows anything that happens is because we love
them. Whether it’s a hard conversation about choices, or a funny picture sent
to cheer them up, or strong feedback about areas for growth, the relationship
we establish is what makes everything possible.
So, as the grown child of
someone who was raised with “Because I love you” as the family mantra, all I
can say to my parents is thank you. More than you will ever know.
