Communication is the key. This is a phrase I often say aloud when I hear about miscommunications and the problems that arise from them. Adults often have a hard time with this concept and too often we pass that lack of skill to our children. The Merriam Webster Dictionary defines communication as; “The act or process of using words, sounds, signs, or behaviors to express or exchange information or to express your ideas, thoughts, feelings, etc., to someone else.” With that in mind in the wake of a series of events that have affected our family I realize that my children and I are communicating, but not in the intimate depth that they were capable of and required to successfully process life with its unpredictable obstacles.
Why is communication that big of a deal? It just is. In every aspect of life proper communication is powerful, useful, and an amazing tool to help us manage, cope, express, and share. What happens when people do not learn how to communicate? You end up with a series of miscommunications which can lead to irrevocable damage to relationships at school, home, or at work. When we are not heard when we try to communicate do we stop trying? Do we begin to believe that we have no voice? So in fact communication is not just about giving the information in the form words or behaviors, but it is also about listening and receiving how others are reaching out to us. How do we do this with children? When our precious little ones are infants and toddlers they are able without a doubt to express their basic needs of being tired, hungry, have a dirty diaper, teething, frustrated, cold, and sometimes the simple need to be held. They showed us with their little fists and tiny lower lips quivering and flailing legs that they had a need. As parents we would respond we would hold, cuddle, rock, change, feed, burp, soothe, and do the special coded series of hop, side step, bounce, and dip that our precious little peanuts needed to help them go to sleep. When they get older and their abilities and awareness of the world around them increases their need to communicate about what their needs, feelings change and grow. How do we make sure we are listening to what they are saying? Are we giving them the tools to communicate with us? Do we make the time to truly hear and validate their needs?
The imperative need to communicate has become forefront in my mind these past several weeks. In the past year my husband sustained a back injury from work that has progressed to 2 weeks of him laid out on the floor in pain, restless nights and the overwhelming question of what do we do. There have been appointments for chiropractors, physical therapists, spine doctors, and a MRI. Through this all I knew that we would do all that we could to make things work out. We could be proactive; we could save, and tighten the ship… I never thought to communicate some of those big things with my children. They both had begun telling me that they needed my time, but I didn’t feel like I had any to give. One night my younger son called me to his room to snuggle. I have learned that snuggling with him is his way of getting what he needs from me; quality time. So as I crawl into the bottom bunk covered with stuffed animals under his Dragon Training sheets he wraps his little body around me and we visit. In that quiet darkened cocoon he talks to me about bugs, what the neighbor boy said, a funny story that he made up his unending love for chocolate, what is for breakfast, and then his face gets sober and sad. I ask if he is worried about Daddy. His little eyes shut tight and he asks in a very quiet voice, “Can Daddy die from his back hurting?” My heart does a little flip and I hold him close and tell him it is going to be ok. As I talked to him and reassure him of how the body works and what we are doing to help Daddy I realize different ways he had been more sensitive and angry lately. He was showing signs of distress of what he could not put into words. Fear, worry, and heartache about a problem that was so big he could not see the end of it. In the next weeks I tried harder to reassure my boys that we would get through this and that Daddy was healing and we would do all that we could to help that process. I thought I was communicating enough my love for them, praying for stronger shoulders and hiding as best as I could my fear as I kept the house clean, and the laundry from piling up, the bills paid, the lawn watered, the fridge filled with food and healthy meals on the table. Each that I spent balancing budget, making lists, plans, and researching; I was communicating that I love them. I love them all. With every onion I chopped, egg I cracked, sock I matched, floor I vacuumed, toy I picked up, each appointment I drove to…I am saying I love you, I love you, we can do this, I love you. Sometimes we need to just say the words. When the actions that reflect the words are already in place the words have weight and substance. Words are only empty when they have no substance. Communication is vital for health and life of relationships both in words and actions. It is so simple yet so easy to not blend those two together.
A week ago today I drove 35 minutes to my mother in laws to pick up our boys where they had spent two nights while my husband had to get a procedure done for his back. It had been a busy week. The boys needed a reprieve from the worry and a chance to run and play with ease that belongs to childhood summers. On the way home the boys were chatting and happy to have had a few days with Grandma. As we drove the boys told me of their time and how they played in her sprinkler and enjoyed the warm summer sun. On that drive we were rear ended by a young man. All I will say about that now is that we were scared and hurt and still we are trying to manage and deal with the aftermath of the accident. We are all safe and we are thankful that it was not worse.
Last night on my way to bed I started the dishwasher which decided it needed a holiday and began pouring its water all over the floor. Needless to say it was a long night. Gideon came out to get a drink and saw the mess and as I lead him back to bed I saw my ten year old, cleaning their bedroom. The bedroom looked amazing, but I was surprised to see him cleaning at 10:30 at night. When he heard the dishwasher was broken and Daddy was trying to fix it I saw the distress on his face, saw him lunge forward to go help. I asked them to just get into bed that will help most of all. Hurt, angry words were flung as he climbed the ladder to his bed. He wanted to help. Later after washing the dishes by hand and mopping up kitchen floor and hanging towels to dry I climbed into bed. I quietly rolled up pair of running pants as my neck support and tucked a pillow under my knees. I slowly exhaled and felt all the hurt settle in. My feet ached, my low back felt tight and pinched, my knees were sore, and my neck felt heavy, tired, and raw. I closed my eyes as the breeze came through the window and tried to just breathe. I heard my husband’s breathing soften slowly as he fell asleep. Then as I teetered on that cloudy brink of wakefulness and dreams; I heard the unmistakable sound of crying. It was the soft hushed sorrowful cry that tears at your heart. I lay there realizing it was Tanner crying in his bed and that I needed to get up. The movement from laying to sitting up is painful so I moved slowly off the bed and out the bedroom door. I called for him to sit with me in the living room; quality time.
We sat visiting in the quiet of the sleeping house with the late Alaska sun burning orange through the trees. At first the conversation was guarded and unsure. Then it began to become clear when he hung his head; his eyes swollen with tears he said, “I hurt all over, and we are all hurting. Daddies’ back is hurt. Then we were in an accident and we have to deal with that. Our van is smashed and now our dishwasher is broken.” Again my heart did a little turn in my chest as I realized he was carrying the weight and burden of worry on his small growing shoulders. That his chest was exploding in the pain of being unable to help and the fear of not knowing what would happen to us. My little planner was sinking in the unknowns laid out before us. I realized the reason for him staying up late cleaning his room was something tangible that he could do to try and help. I asked him if that was what he was doing and he nodded yes that he just wanted to help. He asked, “What more could go wrong?” I pulled him close and assured him we would all make it together we would get through this one day at a time. He said he knew I had told him before not to worry, but he was worried about money. I thought about the boys in the living room earlier that day playing Monopoly counting the cash and asking me; “How long would Daddy get to stay home if we had this much?” It wasn’t just a game, they were scared; not about the minor stuff, but they were worried about the big stuff. I hadn’t thought to communicate that into words with them. I had wanted to shield them from the adult worries and protect them from the cares and struggles and allow them to enjoy the innocence of childhood. But then as he watched me with his long lidded eyes I realized he needed to know what lay ahead of us. So taking a deep breath I told him how I used to work in an accounting office and I am good with numbers. We have a budget for our family and we have a savings and we own a lot of things that we can live without if need be. “We will make it work,” I said as I told him about what a friend shared with me, “You have to roll with life." Phrases like that are always easier said than done I know. I told him about my favorite yoga pose; it is called tree pose. Trees at the base are solid with roots that dig deep and wide, but at the tops they bend and sway. We have to learn to bend and sway so we won’t be broken. We have to dig deep into our faith so that we are rooted and grounded through any storm that comes our way. I just held him while the sky burned gold and the trees outside our window moved gently in the evening breeze. Held him until he sat up slowly and said, “I think I am ready to sleep now it is really late.” Communication it is essential to learning to navigate life. Sometimes life happens in a rush and is just too big for us and it is certainly too big for our children, but to share that with someone else is to share the burden and reach for hope beyond what we see before us.
In an article by Meline M. Kevorkian, she states; “Talking with your children is one of the most critical steps of healthy parenting. Young children begin their life fascinated by language and communication. To the small child, a mother’s or father’s words are important, comforting, and soothing. Use this to your advantage. Start intimate communication early on about everything and you have a greater chance of continuing this communication into the teen years.” It seems simple enough to engage in conversation with our children, but intimate conversation takes time and awareness. It is being present and engaged; listening, sharing, and validating the thoughts, ideas, and feelings of our children. It is two parts listening and sharing that is the true communication. In an article by apa.org it states that communication with your children can begin by making yourself available to your children and let them know you are listening and responding in a way that focuses on their feelings instead of your own. This is good for me to remember despite the busy and overwhelming days making true time to focus and listen is imperative to good communication.
As I write now with a cup of coffee beside me; I hear their happy chatter floating out to me from their bedroom. I consider again that it is such a short time that we have our sweet children with us. I don’t want to be so bogged down in life that I don’t take the time to establish communication with them that will carry throughout our entire lives; past the time when they leave home and begin their lives journey.
Communication is the key; it is the key to loving others and it is the key to loving ourselves.
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