Last night my son asked me to go over his self-reflection essay for his English class. He had to hand it in on the afternoon and wanted me to read it beforehand. The first paragraph, which I’d read the previous night, was supposed to be an introduction to the thesis, and that’s what he had written. I thought it did what it had to do; it was really an excellent introduction. The second one was supposed to develop the main thesis, but Nathan had veered from that path – it actually contained an account of the traumatic event that had generated changes in his relationship with Eric and me, and an analysis of his strengths and weaknesses. He’d wanted me to read only the introduction because he thought I’d be upset if I read the second paragraph, but then he changed his mind.
I read his account of my bleeding, brain injury, coma, and rehab, and of Eric’s and my absence of home while my in-laws remained with Nathan. Then, he stated that this event had caused his estrangement from us. The story was written in a matter-of-fact tone. Then came a harsh analysis of his personality. Among several weaknesses, it stated his lack of a work ethic, which had led to his failure to succeed in school. As I read the paragraph, my heart broke. Our conversation was as matter-of-fact as Nathan’s narrative and very short. But my reading prompted me to do quite a lot of thinking. What kind of emotional changes had my injury and its consequences caused in Nathan?
While he was growing up, we had developed a close, affectionate relationship. Unlike Eric, I was a free-lancer, so I could manage my time. I would tell him stories and read him books. I would bake him cookies and prepare snacks for him and his friends. I would take him to school and pick him up, and we’d chat on the way. Actually, I enjoyed being with him – I loved him.
Then, my hemangioma bled, and everything crumbled. Eric had (and still has) to become mom and dad for our son because it took quite a long time for the blood to reabsorb and my confusion and fear to subside, and the effects of the injury had lasted a long time. And I was so focused on what was happening to me and on my healing, that I didn’t have mental time to think of what had happened to him. I thought it was just “teenage trouble.”
This essay was being a real wake-up call. I had to step back and think slowly, and just then I would be ready to begin a conversation. It had taken an essay to teach me to rethink things.
I read his account of my bleeding, brain injury, coma, and rehab, and of Eric’s and my absence of home while my in-laws remained with Nathan. Then, he stated that this event had caused his estrangement from us. The story was written in a matter-of-fact tone. Then came a harsh analysis of his personality. Among several weaknesses, it stated his lack of a work ethic, which had led to his failure to succeed in school. As I read the paragraph, my heart broke. Our conversation was as matter-of-fact as Nathan’s narrative and very short. But my reading prompted me to do quite a lot of thinking. What kind of emotional changes had my injury and its consequences caused in Nathan?
While he was growing up, we had developed a close, affectionate relationship. Unlike Eric, I was a free-lancer, so I could manage my time. I would tell him stories and read him books. I would bake him cookies and prepare snacks for him and his friends. I would take him to school and pick him up, and we’d chat on the way. Actually, I enjoyed being with him – I loved him.
Then, my hemangioma bled, and everything crumbled. Eric had (and still has) to become mom and dad for our son because it took quite a long time for the blood to reabsorb and my confusion and fear to subside, and the effects of the injury had lasted a long time. And I was so focused on what was happening to me and on my healing, that I didn’t have mental time to think of what had happened to him. I thought it was just “teenage trouble.”
This essay was being a real wake-up call. I had to step back and think slowly, and just then I would be ready to begin a conversation. It had taken an essay to teach me to rethink things.
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