Poor piano.
In our crowded house, it is not merely a musical instrument. The top has become the place where the kids’ school papers and art projects get stacked, shuffled, reshuffled, unstacked, spread, shuffled, and stacked again until the mood strikes to sort. The stacks are sorted and shuffled into “keepers” and “landfill cloggers”.
I feel guilty throwing their school work away. What if we need proof, down the road, that Ryley really can draw a square around three ducks? Yes, it is more like a rhombus, but he is only in Kindergarten. Give him a break.
A few nights ago, the sorting spider (not just a bug, a big hairy spider) bit me rather hard. I have been looking for projects to distract me, something to throw myself into. I need a sense of accomplishment right now. So I began to sort.
I felt like Indiana Jones on an archeological dig, wondering what sacred treasure I’d have to save from the bad guys this time. As I neared the bottom of the piles, I travelled further back in time to when I last purged the piano of its burden. It must have been near the first of the year because I came across this picture, drawn by Aidan:
She likes drawing propaganda (to see another example, click here). It is part of her strong personality. She has found posters to be an effective way to keep brothers out of her room, to announce that she is having a bad day, and to campaign for her pet projects.
This particular picture struck me because it has been a horrendous year, so far. We have had numerous serious illnesses, injuries, and a great loss. One of the illnesses suffered by one of our children has seven syllables. It has been one thing after another. Complications and reasons to fall on our knees are coming from the left, the right, from above and below.
Yet, I look at this picture and think “We Can Do It” and “Yes We Can”. When asked who the red-earred guy is, Aidan said “it’s either Ryley without glasses or daddy with hair.” The mystery man, who is exhorting us to hang in there in 2005, has inspired me.
I can do it. Yes I can.
