I’m playing catch up! This is pretty therapeutic for me to write these things down. I hope someone appreciates it someday. In the mean time, I am appreciating it.
#52Stories Week 13
Who taught you how to work?
To be honest, probably a lot of people! But most notably, my parents and grandparents.
My dad was always at work. It seemed that way anyway, especially when I was little. When he wasn’t at work, he was working on some project: demo or construction in our basement, digging up a garden, planting, chopping or watering trees or fixing cars. I liked being outside in the garage helping. This was just the tip of the ice burg. My mom had a huge list of honey-do for him.
My mom was also always working. In the garden, cooking, cleaning, day care, Burger Bar, knitting, sewing, or coming up with some other clever project she thought might make her successful. Always busy, always working, usually cheerfully. I remember enjoying time in the garden with her. I don’t know if I was that helpful, but I remember being there.
My grandparents, grandpa in particular, had multiple jobs. He was a teacher during the day, janitor at the school in the evening, then a security guard at night. When he was at home, he was mowing the lawn, painting the house, moving rocks, or planting trees in the yard. He always tried to involve us grandkids in as many projects as possible.
Grandma was no less busy with jobs, in and out of the house. Even now, she hasn’t slowed down much and churns out a hand-made afghan or two each day. I fondly remember collecting pink crab apples from her tree and making jelly in her kitchen. She was constantly cooking, enough to feed an army. I spent many Sundays helping her there in the kitchen, cooking and washing dishes after a big family meal. Whenever we were finished putting everything away, she like to turn off the lights and announce loudly, “This kitchen is closed!” before taking a seat to relax and tell stories.
The “work” we did never seemed like work. It was a pleasure to be with them, my grandparents, and even my parents. I guess that’s the hallmark of a great teacher…making the “work” actually seem desirable. I still have much to learn from them in that department. I think my kids would rather go to the dentist and have a root canal than willingly work at home. 🙂