Erin loved Curious George. She watched the movies and all the episodes numerous times. She talked back to George in his language throughout the shows. We all watched them with her just to watch her reactions to George. She identified with him. She loved watching him make a mess that grew and grew knowing he was about to get in real trouble and not be able to fix it. She could see it coming and would giggle and issue warnings to stop him while her facial expressions were egging him on. I believe she loved watching him get into more trouble than even she could muster. George always turned every good intention upside down without even trying. He recognized at some point the situation was out of control and would either run to find the man with the yellow hat to fix it or reluctantly sink down into the mess and wait…hoping for his safety net to arrive. Erin knew the routine. Her safety net in life was her dad. She’d call him to watch George with her or to report his mischief. As a little girl, she’d put her two fingers in her mouth and climb onto his lap to watch George with her. As she got older, she’d call “Dad!” adding a bit of George language to follow. He always came to sit with her and watch. She’d scoot over on the couch and put her head on his shoulder or under his arm. If Dad wasn’t around at the moment, she’d call for brothers to come. I was usually there, too, all set up for grading papers while sitting with her for the Curious George marathon afternoon.
Where has that “upside down” feeling gone? I desperately miss it. Erin created it in the most powerful and demanding ways. She brought it to life and made it a daily reality. She literally sought out every opportunity to BE upside down…on monkey bars, on the trampoline, even hanging off the couch. My father-in-law rigged a portable bar in the door frame between the kitchen and laundry room when Erin was younger for her to swing upside down while I cooked dinner and did laundry. When Erin was in my classroom after a long day of school, she would sit in my desk chair with wheels and spin around and around with my Ipad in hand playing “Fireworks” and “The Climb”. She craved the feeling-the sensory input- created by spinning, swinging, and hanging upside down. She’d eventually settle into a calmer state as her vestibular system would reset.
For me, and maybe most people, feeling “upside down” is that part of life that clashes with all that is normal. Simply, without the “upside down” presence, life is just normal and predictable. Erin was the catalyst of “upside down-ness” in our lives. She brought something to my life that is contrary to how I am wired. I strive for normalcy and balance in life and work as defined by spinning many plates in the air at the same time. Keeping them all in motion at the same time is my measure of productivity. It’s a sign of normal life driven by a schedule, a routine, balanced by exercise, driven by household chores…keeping up with laundry and grocery shopping…bills paid…checking in with family on facetime and phone calls. Work goals and challenges are always in the back of my mind pushing me to read more, write more, create more, connect more. It’s all a part of learning more and is exactly what drives my days and nights. It all gets done…maybe not at the end of every single day, but at the end of a week or maybe a month, I find myself where I want to be most of the time. The journey is as much about thinking about what I need to integrate into daily activities and trying to utilize any available time to grade assignments or prepare for the next class or meeting. I work faster while in this mode. Yet, that upside down familiar feeling does creep into the subtle chaos of daily life. I recognize it. It is pending on my agenda…a new challenge, task, or interaction. I may dread it and even fear it at times. Yet, it can serve me well. It demands I gather my courage. It pushes me out of my comfort zone and into places of growth. I can’t claim to be a lifelong learner and not go there.
Erin wasn’t the first person to bring upside down-ness to my life…Life with students in a classroom was full of upside down opportunities each and every day – looking into middle schoolers’ eyes, listening to their interpretations, watching their responses, figuring out how they learn – unpacking the steps in their thinking process to find what they know and don’t know, discovering where to jump in and connect, how to bring them forward.
Becoming a parent brought upside down-ness to my life…late nights with babies wide awake or little boys with asthma up all night…thinking about which parent would stay home the next day while the other went to work…starting the sub plans for school between nebulizer treatments at 3AM. Later, juggling multiple game schedules posted on the refrigerator and sometimes switching fields during games to keep family eyes peeled on sons…consuming way too much fast food in route to multiple games each week…clinging to my coffee cup during the day to keep me alert…our lives seemed a bit upside down during those days. I miss them. Wouldn’t trade them – not for anything.
My older boys learned to drive mostly with their dad as their wingman. With my youngest son, Kyle, I had my turn at giving carefully delivered reminders to brake with my foot pressing the floorboard in the passenger seat to somehow aid in the process. He chose me to clock the required daytime and nighttime hours behind the wheel. He offered to drive me the hour to Longwood University after school for my evening classes, so he could hang out with Dylan, my middle son, and then drive me home afterwards. It was on these trips I experienced the upside down feeling that crept up on me within seconds of getting in the car. It’s that type of panic that hits you after the fact as you realize what almost just happened…like the times Kyle would hear me say, “You might want to brake now” as we were almost passing the gas station we had agreed would be the next turn, or swinging into the interstate ramp at 50 mph and exiting with Kyle saying, “So, that’s how you merge.”
It was on those trips to Longwood that Kyle introduced me to the music of Jack Johnson. He had several CDs and would turn up the tunes while we traveled down Route 15 through Buckingham to Longwood as the sun was setting in front of us. I loved that time together and loved hearing Kyle learn to play his songs on guitar. I’ve always been amazed at how fast he can roll out the lyrics while keeping track of chord progressions with ease. I loved those days of watching my shy son deliver humorous side remarks, maintain his calm demeanor, and grow in quiet confidence through his music.
I took Erin to Longwood once in October of 2016. It was after she returned home from her long stay at the hospital. She was weaker and needed to stay even closer to me. I had a Friday night commitment to work with a few grad students from the ASD certificate program. We were going to meet to make visual supports for communication. Rob was later than usual coming home from work, so I didn’t have time to debrief with him about Erin’s meds and prepare him for her evening schedule. I quickly packed up her supplies and wheelchair and put her in the red KIA to drive to Longwood in the pouring rain. She had her bookbag full of new coloring supplies to do her own work at college. I remember I had searched everywhere that fall to find Halloween coloring books for her and had finally found them at the Longwood Barnes and Noble Bookstore the week before. I’ll never forget that night in Room 247 of the Hull Building. The few students were so kind to her, and she smiled and flirted with them while we all worked. She loved being there. When the session was over, the rain had stopped, and we headed home on the dark country road with the windows down. In our jean jackets and with our hair flying across our faces, we laughed and listened to Jack Johnson. This time, we had the soundtrack to the first Curious George Movie. Erin put her arms up and danced in her seat to the theme song, “Upside Down.” We stopped in Dillwyn to split a small dish of soft vanilla ice cream in the car. With Erin on dialysis, her fluid intake was extremely limited; but every once in a while, we shared a small treat. Soft vanilla ice cream was her favorite. I loved that night. It’s my only solid memory of taking Erin into the Hull building at Longwood in all the years I took classes and taught as an adjunct. She would talk about my going to Longwood. A night out for class was my diversion for many years. What began as an “upside down” moment and panicky feeling that rainy Friday night while unexpectedly deciding to leave home with her turned into a memory I’ll choose to keep close, and on occasion, smile over as I pass Room 247 in Hull.
Today, I’m feeling grateful for the girl who turned our lives upside down. She kept our lives spinning. She showed us the world through her lens, which meant we had to help her find her niche and ours in life with her. “Who’s to say what’s impossible and can’t be found?” We are stronger and better through living in her upside down world where we constantly asked each other, “Is this how it’s supposed to be?”
I don’t want this feeling to go away…
Sorting it Out... 