I am the Gil and other reflections from the week past

Gus could not stop touching his head wreath.

This bit of choreography was not part of the program.

Spreading the joy.

"I'm tired of this!"

Just ... can't ... stand ... anymore.

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Indulging in a little pick.

Part 1: I am the Gil

As I took in Gus's Christmas program on Friday morning, the late-80s movie, Parenthood, came to mind. There is a scene toward the end of the film when the family is preparing to go watch the daughter's play. The movie's protagonist, Gil Buckman, is talking to his wife. His ancient, possibly senile, grandmother has just delivered a meandering soliloquy about how when they were young, her husband had enjoyed the merry-go-round while she preferred the roller coaster. (Forgive me if I'm mincing details - I was too lazy to actually go back and watch it again for accuracy.) So, Gil tells his wife, Karen, that Grandma is nuts, while Karen remarks that, no, she is full of wisdom.

Cut to the play - I think it was Snow White and the Seven Dwarfs. A child in the play, as part of the script, does something to hurt the daughter. The youngest son runs onto the stage, shouting, "Don't hurt my sister!" Scenery falls, chaos ensues, the show is brought to a grinding halt. Around him, Gil notices various reactions: some people are laughing, some are shocked, some are dismayed. Gil's reactions are shown as if he's riding a roller coaster.

This long aside brings me to the thought that I can so relate to Gil. I knew that Gus's performance probably wouldn't be smooth sailing, so I was somewhat prepared. We sat down, and Gus and his classmates processed in to the Christmas carol, "The Friendly Beasts." Immediately, Gus shouted out, "I can't see my mom!" Then spotting me: "Oh, there she is." From there it was much more of the same. My youngest did some great singing, but he also could not stand still. He twirled, he engaged in a bit of nose picking, he slumped over in boredom at times. When he received his bell to jingle for "Jingle Bells," he stuck the end his mouth, tried shoving it up his sleeve several times.

There was a point at which Gus and his classmates got sticks for tapping. "I made mine into a 'v!'" he gleefully shouted. "Yours is an 'a' without a line!" G exclaimed to the kid next to him. "Gus!" his teacher whisper-yelled many times. (I can just imagine Gus thinking sometimes, "What is the problem with y'all that everything needs to so serious and quiet all the time?") Without exception, Gus bowed deeply after each song, even though it was not yet time to bow.

I watched all of this as if riding on my own roller coaster. At times, I laughed uncontrollably. Other moments, I grimaced in fear of what might happen. I was genuinely nervous that Gus's antics might knock down a kid or two around him. I think I can safely say that Gus was the star of the show, but in a way that could be taken many different ways. Some people probably enjoyed it, thought he was hilarious; maybe others were annoyed; still others may have thought, "Gosh, I'm glad that one's not mine." Thinking the latter two thoughts got to me, I must admit.

I don't want to be the Gil. I'd rather be the Karen. (Though I can relate to Karen in a Gus kind of way in the scene when at a birthday party, her youngest son is wearing a bucket on his head and ramming into the wall. "He likes to ... butt things with his head," she murmurs in explanation.) Gil's wife is rational, even, keeps things in perspective. Though Gil loves his kids desperately, he is neurotic, worries non-stop. Unfortunately, we don't get to choose our temperaments.

After the show, Gus's teacher, Mrs. Howard, approached us. "Gus did great!" she said. "He brings life to our class." Another mom, came up and said, "I just loved Gus. He was so expressive. I thought it was beautiful. I have a soft spot in my heart for Gus." Obviously, this mom is my new best friend.

I can't control what other people thought. If Gus brought joy to some, that is wonderful. In the end, he definitely brought me a lot. I will forever carry the morning's unforgettable moments. In truth, I probably prefer the merry-go-round. Maybe God knew I could use a little roller coaster in my life. And that is my Gus.

Part 2: A sad epilogue

There is another part of the movie in which Gil vividly imagines that his failings as a dad have led his oldest son to turn insane. The son is in college and goes on a shooting rampage. This part of the movie was laughable for its absurdity, I suppose, when it was made in 1989. That dad is such a worrier. That would never happen. At that time, we were still years away from Columbine and a rash of other school shootings. How I wish the idea of such occurrences were still unthinkable.

When I turned on my iPad after Gus's show, the first thing I saw was a New York Times alert that 18 (later to be 20) children had died in school shooting. I could barely take it in. I wished in vain I could make it untrue. It made all of my fretting from hours before seem unbelievably trivial. I felt chilled all day after hearing the news and seeing more and more sobering reports pour in. Seeing that it was all 6- and 7-year-olds who died, I couldn't help but think of my own 7-year-old, of all my kids.

Like so many, I've been feeling down about the state of the world since Friday. Sadly, there will always be disturbed individuals who wish to do others harm. I think the only way we can go on, those of us blessedly removed from the direct effects of the tragedy, is to focus instead on the goodness of so many of the people involved. Their stories make me gasp in awe when I read them. The principal who perished trying to disarm the gunman. The teacher who died trying to shield her pupils. The custodian who ran through the halls warning others. The teacher who calmly led her students to a back room and read to them to calm them. These people didn't have time to think about it. It was just in them to commit amazing acts of heroism.

A post has been widely making the rounds on Facebook the past couple days. It is a quote by Fred Rogers, aka Mister Rogers: “When I was a boy and I would see scary things in the news, my mother would say to me, 'Look for the helpers. You will always find people who are helping.'” I think we just have to believe that the number of people in this world who want to help and do good is so much greater than the number who want to do harm, and I hope we all can rest in that knowledge.

I don't know if I'll get to post before Christmas, so try to have a merry Christmas, even if the idea of celebrating seems a little wrong at a time like this, as it does to me. Take pleasure in the little things and hold your loved ones close. Peace be with you all.