Earning it

Here's a story and a thought that I want to remember.

I went to the YMCA today, as I do almost every Monday. I completed my exercise class and 20 minutes on an elliptical and then went to retrieve Lillian and Asher from child-watch. 

I'd like to interrupt myself here and say a bit about that, because child-watch at the YMCA is an interesting sort of thing. The YMCA lures in loads of moms like me--those with little ones under five--with the promise of FREE CHILDCARE WHILE YOU EXERCISE!  One can not exaggerate the giddy excitement this promise evokes. It seems like a gift not unlike manna falling from the heavens. However, the YMCA child watch is a blessed convenience, but when all is said and done, the entire experience boils down to a couple of grown-ups who seem to always be mildly annoyed (I probably would be, too) looking over a gaggle of 20+ children who roam sort of aimlessly around a giant room filled with old toys. The goal, as near as I can gather, is to keep the children from harming themselves. It rides the rails of benign neglect, keeping the kids unharmed (mostly) and alive while moms like me  get in a work out since we can't seem to be as effective in front of a TV and that dang Tony Horton. 

Not surprisingly, my kids don't really like going to child watch, and I don't like taking them. But we haven't been able to be outside for months now, and it's spring break (oh, the irony!) so we're cooped up and crazy and I know at some deep level that an hour of exercise makes me a better mother. So, today I exercised and my kids lived to tell the tale of another day in child-watch. 

As I picked them up, I couldn't help but notice a mother who was in a bit of a pickle. She held a stroller in which sat encased a tiny newborn; she had a body still swollen from pregnancy and breast-feeding--a detail I only include because I well remember that dewy stage of mothering, when getting out of the house is such a necessity and yet such a major difficulty that every outing is rendered desperate and vulnerable at almost every turn. 

Just at the moment I observed her, her newborn began to wail and, simultaneously, a tiny toddler ran away from her and into a room reserved for older kids' play. There it is, the classic dilemma: you can't be in two places at once, you can't care for the imminent needs of those so dependent on you. This mother picked up the baby, whose cries had escalated, and then ran after her toddler, whose entry into that room surely meant he would get pummeled or lost or worse. I saw as quickly as she did that she couldn't attend to her baby and she couldn't go after her toddler and yet she had to do both. Momentarily, she literally stood motionless, not knowing what to do.

I called after her. "Tell me exactly what how I can help you," I said, and took a step forward. She looked at me only briefly, then looked quickly into the giant playroom where her toddler had disappeared. I held out my hands and she gently laid her newborn in my arms and wordlessly ran after her little boy.

It only took about three minutes for her to get things settled. As she did, I was happy to bounce her tiny newborn in my arms while telling a fascinated Asher a wildly concocted story about a hero named Asher who flew in with a red cape and rescued a crying baby who was being chased by a pirate. He was mesmerized and so was the tiny babe in my arms.

The mother  returned, blinked back tears, and whispered "thank you" to me as I surrendered the tiny weight from my arms. Another mom who was behind me said to no one in particular, "we're all in this together" and we all smiled at each other and went our separate ways.

Here's the thing. I'm in a season of life that, to me, is hard. I could attempt to explain or define what I mean by that, but everyone views hard from his or her own perspective. So it's enough to leave my explanation at just that: things are hard. The understanding that I had today is not that my circumstances will change, or that, magically by a small act of service, it all turned around. It was just this: empathy is earned. And this: it is through the difficulty and frustration and limitation of my own circumstances right now that I am acquiring empathy for things I'd never known or noticed. Even a couple of months ago, I would not known nor recognized that woman's need (I just realized that the last post I wrote was about that). Now, I not only recognized it but acted on it, immediately. And if learning empathy and her sister attribute compassion are at the heart of the purpose of the human existence, then what I am gong through right now matters.

That's enough for me today.

Except to say, so help me New York, this snow better melt soon.