Dear Mom that man has no arms

Dear Mom that man has no arms

Some trials of parenthood have no good answers. While reading Madaline there is a line “They smiled at the good and the frowned at the bad.” The picture of the bad is a crook stealing what is apparently a bag of money or something.

“What is that daddy?” She points to the bag of apparently money. “Why is he bad.”

“He just stole some money from someone who needs it very badly. He is a very bad man.” The obvious thing is he robbed a bank, but I have come to believe robbing a bank is really just poetic justice. I blame it on Cole Younger days and growing up next to a cave Jesse James slept in.

The next line is, “some times they were very, very sad.” There is a picture of a soldier with a broken leg. “How did he hurt his leg Daddy?”

“I am pretty sure he did not listen to his Daddy and climbed a tree when he wasn’t supposed to and broke it when he fell out.”

There seems to be a pattern here. She is inquisitive. She needs to know things. She questions what she does not know in a futile effort to accumulate all the knowledge in the world. Or maybe it is just that she is five.

As we were standing in line the other day she saw a man with no arms. “Daddy that man has no arms!”

“Why yes, you are right, he has no arms.” I knew when I said it this was not the end.

“What happened to his arms Daddy?” There it was. Do I treat this different than I usually do? Do I choose this moment to teach her what is appropriate subject matter while standing in a line? Do I know what is appropriate subject matter when standing in a line?

“I think he was not very careful while he was feeding the alligators.”

The other person I was in line with gasped. “Was that not sensitive enough?” I asked already knowing her opinion. Claire did not ask anymore questions about the man. She glanced at him a few times, but did not stare. I am guessing that she has a healthy fear of alligators at this point. It occurred to me I should have said, “He did not eat his carrots and his arms fell off.” Again probably not the right level of sensitivity considering the subject.

Years ago there was a girl in college that had sever burns over most of her body. Her face was completely scared. I had observed how no one talked to her. There were a few people who knew her and they did a good job of just pretending that nothing was wrong. I passed her a few times and I felt very self-conscious about not saying “Hi.” I over analyzed this and wondered if I was self-conscious because I would have said Hi to someone else if they were not burned or if there was some intrinsic discomfort that came with being around someone different. Deciding I needed to explore this internal turmoil I sat down with her in the student union one day.

“Hi, I’m Mike.” I pondered putting out my hand to shake, but thought if she were a hot cheerleader type I would not try to shake hands when I introduced myself.

“I’m Jennifer.” She answered. Her voice was sweet and even not at all what I had expected, but then I had no idea what to expect.

We talked for 15 minutes or so and I eventually asked her about the burns. She told me a house fire, which almost took her life, was the culprit. It happened when she was in her early teens and she had finished high school with the burns so was quite used to people being curious. I told her I thought it was better that I ask and get it out of the way then to wonder every time we passed in the hall and never say anything to her.

She agreed. We became acquaintances and even friends. I always said, “Hi Jennifer.” When we passed the hall and she would always say Hi back. I sat at her table many times when I came out of the cafeteria and was looking for a seat. On occasion I would see someone I knew pass by not looking at her they way I used to not look at her and I would call them over. “Hi, how you doing? Do you know Jennifer?” I would follow up with some other question to further my ruse of asking them over to the table. If I could I would get them to sit down and when possible pull Jennifer into the conversation.

Over time I noticed a few more people saying, “Hi Jennifer.” When they passed her in the hall. Years later when I had developed a habit of specifically avoiding avoiding people I realized the introductions were as much for the other people as they were for Jennifer. Jennifer deserved more friends and surely these people deserved to have an experience to help break down their own barriers.

Standing in line at the grocery store Claire noticed a little old lady in a wheel chair. “Why is she in that chair Daddy?” Remembering the man with no arms I pondered saying, “She ate too much candy,” or “that is what happens when you do not wear your helmet.” Instead I took a different approach.

“I don’t know, lets ask her.” I turned to the woman. “Excuse me, my daughter and I were wondering why you are in that chair?” I knelt beside Claire with my arm around her which put her in an uncomfortable position of being front and center of the conversation, but not so far in she could not be comforted by her Daddy’s arm around her shoulder.

At first the woman acted a little startled. She looked at Claire and smiled broadly. “You are so cute.” She reached out with a delicate hand but could not quite reach her and Claire was not quite up to getting any closer. “I got old.” She said. “I can’t walk around like I used to and this chair helps me do my shopping.”

“Don’t ever get old.” She added. Claire did not talk through this but glanced up at me a few times as if to say, “uhh, can we leave now?”

I am thinking that a few more of these introductions and she will get the hang of it. I don’t want her to be uncomfortably inquisitive but I do want her to avoid avoiding things. I believe it is healthy to ask questions such as these just as you might say, “where did you get that jacket?” or “that is a nice color of fingernail polish.”

There is a balance she must learn. It is not the same to tell someone they are stunningly beautiful as it is to tell them their disfigurement is grotesque. I hope I have set a good enough example to teach her the difference.

In the mean time I am hoping she does not ask any one armed men how their alligators are doing.

Love Mike