Yes, I used that word again, "empathy", a word that I seem to be coming back to more and more of late. Recently, I have been reading the "Brain Rules for Baby" book and empathy has been a big theme in that book in relation to raising children. However, through reading the book and in turn inspecting my life and the lives of those around me, empathy has gained traction in my mind. It has forced me to look at how I utilize empathy in my own life, sometimes less, sometimes more, and how I can teach empathy to my son as he grows older. In dealing with family members especially, I have tried to take a step back from situations and see those situations from their perspective to try and understand where they are coming from. Obviously this is not always the easiest thing to do and I am not always successful at completely understanding where someone else is coming from. Granted, I know empathy is probably one of the hardest things we as humans can do honestly, but sometimes I come upon situations that either drag me in too deep or baffle me as to how I should respond. And this is where one of my grandmothers comes in, Baba, my mother's mom. The whole reason I am bringing this up today is because of recent events that have unfolded, most notably a few from mother's day when we were all gathered together at my parents house. As I mentioned on Monday, we had a total of 6 mothers there, quite a few to reckon with, but it seems the one that needed the most reckoning with was Baba.
So here is where the empathy comes in, or at least an attempt at empathy. How does one empathize with a woman in her early 90's who has lost three husbands, spends most of her days alone (by choice as options for socialization are offered to her), and is slowly losing her memory? How exactly does one place themselves in those kind of shoes and arrive at a point where one can say, "I understand where she is coming from and I feel for her." Parts of her predicament are easier to empathize with than others, but then again, it all depends on the circumstances. This past Sunday as we were all gathered together, Baba was the one craving most of the attention. Almost all of us were seated in the living room with our son playing on the floor. All the great grandparents were obviously excited to see him crawling around, the advances that he has made, and were all in some way trying to get his attention. By far, Baba had to be the loudest and the most adamant about getting that attention. Understandable from my perspective, maybe a little overboard, but understandable as she is the one out of everyone gathered who has the least interaction with others. But it doesn't stop there. After our son received more attention than he could handle and became a little over-stimulated, I whisked him out of the room. The conversation that followed seemed to center on events in the news and occurrences in the world until Baba chimed in needing to add her two cents on a topic totally unrelated. The rest of the conversation went silent when she chimed in and she continued to tell her stories. I can empathize with her to an extent because I know her so well, but to someone who doesn't, it is much more difficult to see past her sometimes ornery, demanding nature to the underlying issues that she is dealing with.
Its tough to envision sometimes what life must be like from her shoes. After all, how many of us have escaped the grips of WWII, moved countless times to different countries, lost three husbands, lost a daughter, and on top of that have very little left that we can call our own except family? I would guess that there are very few people if any, who can imagine going through something like that. Granted, none of that excuses her actions from time to time, but it offers a glimpse of what it must be like now for her. Empathy, for me especially, is difficult in this case. Every time I think I understand where she is coming from, another part of her life surfaces or influences her that I had completely forgotten about previously. Still, I try and empathize and in ways, I think it might be easier for me to do than for my parents who live with her day in and day out. If I had to live with Baba, I think empathy would be even harder for me to employ than it already is. But I guess in attempting to empathize with Baba, perhaps the hardest case out of my family, it makes it easier to empathize with others and put myself in their shoes. In the end, what more is there to do than to simply deal with a person, love them as best you can, and help them with their life? Not much, but it isn't always easy to do. I must say, I am normally very good at dealing with Baba, but Sunday tested me. There was just something about ensuring minimal stimulation for my son coupled with being loving and empathetic towards everyone else that drained me. Sunday evening found me completely exhausted, probably because the day was emotionally draining. It was still a good day, don't get me wrong, just trying at times. In any case, on to another day at home with my son!
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