Ten-Finger Exercises

I'm being a bear

Was it only yesterday that I was exhausted from the kids’ grief group and then had to go to the pancake supper? How come I’m so tired again already? Coming into the house in time to hear a call from the hospital billing office for a bill I paid in full three weeks ago didn’t help either. Neither did the package for me on the doorstep. Bill is such a sweetheart, but wouldn’t you think he’d know by now that I’m having a hard time getting rid of stuff, stuff, stuff, and not buy me a custom made multi-buck teddy bear of all things! Can you see the smoke coming out of my ears?

Maybe he won’t mind if I give it to Zachary. I hope.

Last night’s group: what a madhouse! I am so delighted to get out of the next two meetings by going to Florida to see Zach.

The man who is officially leading the group is our newest social worker, who came to us from an agency that deals with children. He has a great reputation for working with kids. He’s funny, and they love him. When I told him I’d be gone for two sessions, he said that was too bad, but that he could get the other social worker, or even do it by himself. He has lead the group sort of as if he was by himself as it is. I have been impressed with his personality, but not with his skill at helping kids with their grief.

We offer grief groups three times a year, and I’ve never figured out how they get planned or who does it. I suspect it’s the senior social worker. She has wanted to start offering a group for children for a long time, and we have talked some about it together, the chaplains and social workers. I have never had much enthusiasm for the project. One of the local hospitals offers a similar group, and that seems to me to be enough. I did voice that opinion.

Someone made the decision that this would be the time to do it, and that New Guy would lead and I would help.
As I look back on the process, I see that we did not make any of those decisions together, not for the curriculum, the time slot, the age of the kids, the crafts, nothing. Maybe they left it all up to him since he was the “expert.” I didn’t think much about it until now.

One of the things that I just realized is this guy is a ‘P’, a process-oriented person rather than one who works toward specific goals.

Time and organization are not his thing. I too am a ‘P.’ They aren’t my best subjects either, but I know that if we have to take down tables to set the room up, and if we want to have snacks ready for them since they’re just out of school, I have to be there early enough to get it all done. By myself, evidently.

Okay, I can do that. I can shop for the snacks and craft stuff, get it organized and get it to the meeting place. But I need to be doing some of the leading of the group too, because he’s missing important things. He’s being agenda-driven, with a not well thought out agenda, and not hearing the things the kids say that need following up.

This week I talked more than usual, asking questions that weren’t specifically about the book or movie they were being shown. The kids simply weren’t paying attention to the stories and movies he’s presented them. The material didn’t seem age appropriate and wasn’t geared to their specific needs. We did not know enough about these kids and what their needs are. They were not screened in any way. We didn’t know, for instance, until yesterday when I asked, that two of the kids were not “invited” to their dads’ funerals. One boy said his mother told him it would be too scary for him. It took us a month to find that out, just because we hadn’t asked before.

I guess I got that rant out in the air, and now have to go get supper ready in time to get to 7 P.M. church. Ash Wednesday, you know. As I cook, I’ll think about what I want to do with my rant, how to organize it and write it out so that it will look like helpful suggestions for how we could have done better, rather than plain criticism.