Change Of Plans
“Are we done with school yet?” My seven-year-old granddaughter launched her body back against the couch, whining.
I took a deep breath and explained again that we had a few more things to go over. These outbursts were her idea of an expected response, not how she really felt. That’s what I told myself anyway.
Teaching second grade math was not how I envisioned spending my spring. Like always, I made detailed plans. Promoting my children’s book and attending a writer’s conference figured high on my list. Giving timed math quizzes and reading about Christopher Columbus never entered my mind. Now I find myself searching for ways to keep her engaged and excited as we school together. Finding something that a picky child will eat tasks my wits as well.
How did I get from taking a work sabbatical to teaching my granddaughter? March happened. Terms like “shelter in place” and “social distancing” became reality. Grocery and supply shopping became an ordeal. Should I wear a mask? Do I have enough anti-bacterial wipes? Who should I avoid? Thank God I bought a bulk supply of toilet paper just before this. Suddenly, the world as I knew it had changed. Not only was I teaching her, but we were also pretty much stuck at home, just the two of us.
Limiting her time on her Nintendo proved difficult. Like most kids, she would be satisfied glued to a screen of some sort all day long, unless she deemed it time to talk about boys. Especially one boy. Without contact with her daily group of friends, she came to me for boy talk. I try my best to seriously listen and give input that is less like advice and more like understanding. I don’t remember talking with my mother about boys in such detail, and I certainly didn’t talk to my grandmother. In fact, conversations with my own daughter about boys were not quite so involved.
My son asked me to keep her for three weeks while he worked in NYC as a Physician Assistant in the coronavirus outbreak. Keeping her seemed like the logical thing to do and provided a way for me to contribute. The two week break from her public school became a closure until next year, and instantly, I became a teacher. But that was okay because my innate love of teaching rose to the rescue. I would make her schooling experience so great that she would miss it when she returned to regular school next term. And, she would be so far ahead of the other students. Right. I admit that my lofty ideals fall flat some days, but we struggle on. Who knows? Maybe she will learn something after all. I know I have.
My writing has become sporadic. Most days all of my energy is put towards her, leaving me empty of creativity. This void of productivity leaves me uneasy. I’m supposed to be writing. If God has gifted me this time to explore something that I have always longed to do, why am I not doing it? I question my interpretation of His gift. Finally, a realization filled me. I am doing exactly what He wants me to do for this season. Our isolation together has brought my granddaughter and I to a new dependence upon one another. It has opened her heart to share special thoughts and ideas with me. We have time to really listen to one another. It gives me the opportunity to share my love for God with her. We learn things from one another that would not have been possible in normal times. Plans changed and difficult things happened all over the world, but I choose to be grateful for the time spent with my granddaughter.
