Skip to main content

Village People

Remember when Hillary Clinton caused such an uproar when she wrote that it 'takes it village' to raise a child? I think Jerry Falwell and Rush Limbaugh and Newt Gingrich lambasted Clinton for believing such a communist ideology; I recall the argument that it was the parents right to raise a child as they saw fit.

The other day I saw a bumper sticker (wish I could find it because it would be on my bumper for sure) that read: "Forget the village, what about the parents?"

While I believe to my core that it is the parent's responsibility to raise a child, there are parents that cannot for a variety of reasons. We experienced a little of that this past spring when John was undergoing cancer treatment in Ann Arbor and we both needed to be away from home. Thankfully, my mom was able to come and be here with Matthew and Delaney. And there were many 'village people' out there helping to raise our children in countless ways. Big and small.

I overheard a conversation that my son Matthew was having about a dear friend of mine and a woman that became part of his village during the cancer treatment. He described Sherry as his second mother during that time - I cannot tell you how much it touched my heart and soul to hear. I had no idea before listening in the depth of his emotions and the level to which the village (in this case Sherry) stepped up for my dear, sweet son.

I am confident that if Michael and Delaney were to have similar conversations, I would hear similar tales of parenting from the village. I can almost imagine who those village people/parents might be. And here's the thing - I am okay with it. John and I are, and always will be, the parents - you know the ones that have the primary responsibility of raising our children. Yet there are other adults in the lives of all children that are watching out for them - in this case Sherry and others. We are blessed.

So, I applaud the previously mentioned bumper sticker - but I know that there are times when the village can gratefully step in for the three not-so-little Piggins. After all, parenting is sometimes difficult and it's nice to have a village to lean on. For my own village people, a heartfelt thank you for being there when John and I could not - to my Mom, Sherry White, Chris Kiger, Kris VanLoon, Karen Bush, Pam Edmunds, Lois Miller and the many others that I am unable to name. I love my village. People.

Comments

  1. As someone who has a village (and it's a rather large village), Eric and I do cherish each individual and their contributions to our daugters. Grace knows Polish words and loves Polish food from her cousins, Aunt Joanna, and Babcia (who although not Grace's grandma, comes often enough to visit her granddaugthers that Grace thinks of her as Babcia too). Grace eats Filipino food and tries to order it in restaurants because of my parents who feed her daily. Grace loves the library and all it has to offer because of her Grandma and Grandpa Hudson. Grace knows who Bumblebee is because Uncle Tim lets her watch movies with him. I can keep going and going....

    Our life is full of Grandma and Grandpas (blood-related and not), Aunts and Uncles (blood-related and not), and cousins (blood-related and not) - and while it may have it challenges at times, the positives far outweigh any of them.

    Eric and I do not take this for granted and thank God for all our blessings every day in giving us the family (blood-related and not) we have today.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

It's not a popularity contest, but ...

A Hole in My Heart Where Sandy Should Be

The past two days have passed with little joy and I find that I'm restless and cannot focus. I don't like being home because of the thousand reminders of my sweet Sandy and yet I can't be away because I don't feel like engaging in anything other than my own personal sorrow. Yes, she was 'just a dog' but oh what a dog she was. . . I learned a lot about loyalty and unconditional love from Sandy. And in that, I believe that God gives us these loving dogs so that we can learn a little about His love for us - that unconditional love. Even on my worst day when I might not have been paying much attention to Sandy, she was still there and still loving. Wow. There is no doubt in my mind that putting her down and out of her misery was the right thing for Sandy - she must have been so riddled with cancer and in such pain. Her last day she couldn't even keep water down; I imagine that her entire body must have been affected by the cancer. Then I think back to her last d...

Rolling, Rolling, Rolling

I put my pride aside and got my ass off the grass and into the wheelchair. {I spent a couple minutes deciding whether to put an exclamation mark after that declaration or to put the period after that statement. I think the period better suits my mood about getting said ass into the wheelchair!} On July 4, Saugatuck has a wonderfully unique parade that includes quirky participants like the artsy-fartsy campers at OxBow art colony and the LGBT members of a local foundation along with the more traditional participants like Girl Scouts, fire trucks, and local politicians. It had been a couple years since I had been to the parade, this year, though, my Mom and sister were in town and I wanted to take them. So we loaded up in the van, including Kerri's wheelchair and my own. Once we parked, John asked if I wanted to use my chair and I initially balked but then remembered that it can be a long, hot parade and it might be better to have a place to sit. So, I acquiesced and took the cha...

Ch ... Ch ... Chemo

I was ready. I was prepared. The potential side-effect list was long and one I'd had some familiarity when John went through his treatment.  So I gathered my arsenal. I had my compazine, zofran and antivan. I had my ginger chewables and chicken noodle soup. I was armed and potentially dangerous. So, chemo day with the toxic chemo cocktail starting to do it's job, I envisioned it as either PacMan, eating away at the cancer cells or a Chia Pet, allowing my good cells to thrive. With these visions, (that aren't quite Christmas Eve sugar plums dancing) and tired from the chemo, I went to bed early. Friday, under the watchful eye of my caregiving hubby, I slept most of the day away. Not really hungry but not nauseous either. I spent the majority of the day horizontal on the couch listening to my book on Audible (despite the sleep timer, I probably missed 1/3 of what I 'read'), dozing, answering calls and texts, and snacking.  Perhaps the highlight of the ...