Grace

If there is something you should know about me is that I am a proud woman. I don’t have the kind of pride that has to be right but the kind that makes it important to do stuff on my own. You see, I find it difficult to ask for help. Part of me doesn’t ask because I am afraid of making waves. That might be why I have become relatively self-sufficient over time. To be honest, I am really afraid of no one showing up if I did ask them.

IMG_0932Last weekend, completely out of character for me, I asked the men in my life (my husband and my son) to help me at work for a few minutes before and after our open house on Sunday. I needed their physical strength to move furniture from my classroom on the second floor to another one on the first floor.

What I got was to watch two men I love move through my place of work like they owned the place. They were silly and teased each other. They laughed, they sweated and worked like a team for the heavier piece of furniture. They came in willingly and were not begrudging me the task despite the heat wave hitting the Montreal area at the end of September.

There you have it. I was worried about them begrudging me the work or the heat that I could not control.

They did not. They did not in spades. They were silly and joyful and sat at my classroom computer to put music on as I put things back for my students to come into their class not knowing the disturbances of the weekend.

My men did for me what I have tried to do for others over the years.

  1. I show up
  2. I don’t enumerate what I am missing because of this “imposition” (because to me it is not an imposition)
  3. I do not belittle the person for needing a hand.
  4. I do not remind the person that I am doing him or her a favour.
  5. I try to make them feel I am glad I could do this with them or for them.

Watching my men helped me realise the importance of not only showing up but doing it with grace and if you can with a smile.

It took me 30 years to ask my husband if he could give me a hand for something to do with my work.  Maybe, just maybe, the joy it gave me to see my men willing to help with a smile will encourage me to not wait another 30 years…

Lucky for them, it isn’t in me to ask. Lucky for both them and me, retirement is just a few years down the road so the occasions I may need to ask them will be few.

Till next time when I will write about identity.