Tuesday, February 23, 2016
SLICE OF LIFE
I live in an old, old house.
I love it, but things break.
A couple of weeks ago, the lock on the front door stopped working.
And it was a teeny bit of a problem.
When I went to bed, the lock worked.
Not great, a little sticky, but ok.
When I got up the next morning, I couldn't get the door open.
And we had to go out the back door,
through the gate,
and down the steps.
(or climb out the dining room window).
And so I called a locksmith.
He came the next afternoon when the boys were home.
My son called to tell me the locksmith said the lock was worn out and needed to be replaced.
I paid him over the phone.
I had class that night and didn't get home until much later than usual, after 8.
The old lock was sitting on the corner of the dining room table
in about ten assorted pieces.
I meant to throw it out.
But I didn't do it that night.
The next night when I came home, the lock was still on the table.
But it was reassembled.
Totally put together.
I was not surprised.
Son #1 is a kinesthetic learner.
He loves, loves, loves to put things together.
He struggled and struggled and struggled through school.
Barely a C average.
Partially proficient on every standardized test he ever took.
Right now he is working in the fuel department of a grocery store.
That's code for he sits in one of those little gas stands
outside of a grocery store and takes your money.
It's not a great job.
In fact, I think it sounds boring
and pretty awful.
And every night I worry that he will get shot.
Or killed by a drunk driver on the way home.
But at least he is doing something.
He goes to work every day.
He pays his car payment and insurance and phone.
He handles his responsibilities.
Still, I wonder what would have happened
if I had done a better job
at finding a school
that fit him.
That marveled at his kinesthetic mind
and "putting together" talents.
Instead of always
through the lens
books and words
And all the other things
that he is not.
I wonder what he would be doing right now.