Stress, Trauma, Empathy

Today was my first day back at the Y since the plane crash. They kept everyone updated via facebook on the progress of the investigation. Yesterday afternoon around 4, the doors were open to the public once again.

The children, especially Yessa, have been expressing trepidation about going back, so I knew I would go alone the first time. I was surprised at my touch of anxiety at walking in the door this morning. There was a lovely white wreath at check-in saying, “Blessed are they who mourn, for they shall be comforted.” They have counselors available for anyone who needs to talk. I heard snippets of conversation before I put on my headphones: “Yes, I was here.” “Such a terrible tragedy.” “…could have been so much worse.” There were people hugging, and extra smiles today.

I’ve been thinking about people who go through trauma that actually causes them harm, or trauma that is seemingly endless. Not to minimize the fear and tension our children and I felt, but most of our anxiety is in retrospect. Now that we know it was a plane crash that caused the fire, and now that we know what an amazing job the pilot did, and now that we realize it could have been so, so, so much worse…the trauma we feel now is from our own thoughts, which we can control.

Living through abuse or with a substance abuser, how much more difficult is it to find any sort of balance in your life? Having a life that is out of your control, as a child or a victim, or even being poor and not knowing where your next meal is coming from or not having clothes for your children, those daily stresses are so exhausting on every level.

For just a second I want you to take a flight with me, an uncomfortable, bumpy ride, but a necessary one.

I recognize this will be a rambler, so feel free to exit the ride right now…

Still here? Okay, I warned you…

How do I as a parent give my children the opportunity to grow and learn from stressful situations and life’s difficulties? How do I push and expose, but not too much? How do I acknowledge that the best family stories and strongest memories are from when things went wrong. (Ask the children about the drive home when both headlights went out…great memories.)

My grandfather was a raging alcoholic. I don’t know the family stories, and I probably don’t want to, but I know enough to realize that my dad grew up in extremely difficult circumstances. Being one of 17 and poor would be hard enough, add to this an abusive substance abuser, and you have a recipe for horrible.

My dad was an alcoholic for the first part of my life. Buddie has heard the stories, and I may share them with the children someday, but for now…if I have a few personality quirks, suffice it to say I earned those traits.

But that was not all my dad was, he was so much more. And it wasn’t just his alcoholism that shaped me, it was all of who he was, and all of who my mom is. Heck, I haven’t even mentioned my mom who has an amazing life in her own right. My mother who stopped smoking cold turkey when she found out she was pregnant with me. That’s some strength there, folks.

Here’s my point: With the passage of time, I’ve realized I would not trade those early years of trauma for anything because they have led to all the years that followed. I might get twitchy about things that make sense to no one because of those deeply ingrained survival tactics from childhood, but I also know how to stand up for myself. I’m not afraid of anger. If you need me with you in the depths of strong emotion…good or harrowing…I’m there. These are all gifts of time and life.

Annndddd, there it is. I think I have found my answer for the children. I’m obviously not going to become an alcoholic to give them memorable childhood experiences. But life will give them the experiences they need to grow and learn. With the traveling we do, and are planning, they learn flexibility and how different people live. They recognize injustice, even if they haven’t directly experienced it.

Empathy is one of the gifts we want to pass on to our children. It’s one of the gifts that came with my childhood, and having children. Hopefully that can be learned without as much trauma and stress as so many people have to endure.

Addendum:

I wrote this post two days ago, and I woke up thinking about it this morning…laughing at myself. The folly of thinking I have control over what life will give to my children as their needed learning experiences.

The best I can do, the most I have to offer, giving them the chances to see and learn new places and new people. Buds and I can give them examples of adults choosing to react in loving, thoughtful ways, or at least adults realizing when they are behaving badly and trying to do better.

I don’t control their journey, nor should I. I’m simply here to share the ride.