Grit

The word grit evokes images of someone climbing a high mountain, running a lengthy race, or enduring cancer treatments. I think of someone heading to the gym on a daily basis despite the weather, a Michigan driver dealing with the constant messiness of snow without complaining, and an author persisting in finishing a book that may never get published.

As the winter months continue, I can see the presence and absence of it. I catch myself complaining when the students still don’t complete tasks properly. I hear people groan when the weather report includes a wintry mix. I see people running in the snow. How do they do it? I listen to my college aged children describe their study schedule, the exams, and the need to balance all of it. I see the teachers who persist in helping students read, an essential life task. Amidst it all, I observe the nurses at Waterford and Royal Park providing care to residents who complain, resist any kind of care, and sometimes even try to use physical force against them.

When I entered my father’s room yesterday, he was sleeping ( again) on his recliner. He woke up quickly and answered my daily greeting with the same response , ” Fine, but there’s not much going on here.” When I asked him if he had written in his journal, his response was the same. ” Not yet”. Fighting my irritation, I inwardly sighed. When will he take his own initiative? Why can’t he see that he needs to stay active?

My next reaction, a teacher impulse, was to provide assignments. I printed off seven math sheets, telling him that he can do one per day. Surprisingly, he started immediately. I showed him the binder I purchased for his writing and the horse drawing book. The drawing book peaked his interest and he agreed to try drawing horses. We agreed that he needed some additional materials to complete his artistic skills. We also agreed that he needed a daily schedule posted on his wall, similar to a classroom where the teacher lists the subjects of the day. It’s amazing how many parts of the elementary classroom help my father! I left and headed to Staples where I located the sketching paper, pencils, the white polymer eraser, a compass, and pencil bag. I also decided to purchase poster board to write his daily tasks to be completed.

As I drove back on M-6, with road conditions rather hazardous at times, the word grit came to mind. Caregiving takes grit and determination when you really don’t feel like doing it. At times, I don’t feel like providing more activities for my father when it doesn’t seem like he shows grit. I don’t feel like shopping for items that may end up in the garbage bin at some point. I don’t feel like braving the road conditions and experiencing lake effect snow. But my feelings are irrelevant. He needs us. Period.

The words of Esther 4:14 on my board at home remind me as the journey continues.