Worn. Tired. Confused.
Sometimes you have those feelings that shoot through the veins of a mother. As I rest from another day, I think aloud on this piece of paper.
My heart feels heavy with the weight of the knowledge of pain in this world. I know there are things that I can do, yet often I feel powerless.
I wake up each day, and complete my tasks. Cleaning, cooking, school, and repeat again. At the crux of it all, lies the question that haunts my thoughts. Could I do more?
What is my job in this life?
As I teach my children, I ask…”Should I do more?” or “Should I do less?”
I have learned that sometimes in our effort to help, we can harm. I have seen in our efforts to teach, we handicap. Our beliefs can be strong. We know what is right, for us, for our children. We know and we seek to convince them, and anyone else that will listen.
We have the internet, blog sites, Facebook, our own personal platforms. Conspiracy theories are not restricted to the hills of the north country anymore, they are rampant online. Not only rampant, but rampantly believed as truth. We can teach our ideas to those beyond our own families if we choose.
But I ask myself if it is right. Is this really what we should be doing?
I teach math, history, science, language arts and other subjects every day. I input memories into my sons heads and pray that I am teaching them to think for themselves. It is not that I think they will always make the right choices. I pray they do. But I know that through pain and mistakes, we often learn to ask for help. I want to be the one they ask for help from, not the one that says “I told you so.”
Something I have learned, when you seek to teach the world, start with yourself. Examine your thoughts, beliefs. Then when you teach others, stop and question them again. Ask yourself if this is really something worth pushing? There are things to be black and white on. And there are others, where you need to remember that even when you completely and totally disagree, love sometimes rules over all.
Raising children is hard. Teaching children is hard. Living with the lifelong knowledge that you drove your children away from you because you had an unflinching attitude on something, that may not have even been right? That is really hard.
Everyday I see families. I see their lives. I know others see mine. I am sure that others form their opinions of me as well. I find that I always have more to learn. I can be wrong.
But the pain that hurts the most is often when the unflinching refuse to realize they were wrong. When death comes, it is too late. There is no chance to say “I was wrong. Forgive me.” The pride that you had from knowing you stood firm and “won”…that won’t matter when you are gone. There are times when you have to walk away from someone you love.
I lost someone I cared about today. Someone that never did to my knowledge realize the pain he had caused. I pray that he did at the end. I forgave him, and moved on, even though we could not have a relationship after that. But it still hurts. I hurt because I care.
So, tonight, as the weight of the world rests on my shoulders, I ask myself, have I done enough? What can I do different when I wake up tomorrow? Can I teach my children to think for themselves? Can I teach them to take responsibility for their actions? I pray so.
