Reflection
Do you ever just sit and watch the hustle and bustle of things around you? I mean, on a deeper level than simply people watching. When left to my own devices, I regularly do just that. Sometimes it gets me into trouble because I longly dream of times since forgotten. Other times it makes me inwardly rejoice for the blessings thus far. This last week was a lot of both, sadly mostly the not-so-great.
My birthday was last Thursday. No need for belated wishes; I genuinely dislike the lone statements that are typically included out of social politeness. Instead, I prefer genuine interest in a small conversation or sincere handwritten notes. But I digress.
I could go into a long rant about all the things that disappointed me, but instead, I choose to spend my time typing here focused on the 2 moments that shine brighter than all the stormy, dreary parts which made my heart ache. My oldest child is 18, graduating from high school in 6 days, and headed out on his senior mission trip at 1130 last Thursday, my birthday. It was tough emotionally because he didn't even give me a hug (mostly because he was engrossed in getting his stuff in order), and it was the first reality check of him leaving. He works most evenings, and I don't even say more than a few words to him some days because it is like ships passing in the night. However, it occurred to me he hasn't ever been gone except for youth camp 5 years ago. That leaving didn't feel like this. This time it felt so big, so much like a window into the future of him out of my house for good.
Before you feel sorry for me, remember I am choosing to talk about the highlights, the 2 moments that actually stand out in a way that makes me feel warm and fuzzy. So, Sat I am up way too early and taking the youngest to the barn. When I get back home, everyone is still asleep. So I begin cleaning Joey's room in my actual, never-sit still fashion. It is downstairs and easy to not wake others there, plus it seems like a blessing to him and me to deep clean the pizza smell (his job). As I do, I take note of the bookshelves he has collected the most neatly items from his life. I see the only boy scout boat he ever built, the mini radio/mp3 he took great pains to win out of a machine for G-ma, the collection of Star Wars memorabilia, the "perfect" shells and rocks he scavenged for hours on the beach to find. There are awards for honor roll, which he hasn't earned in years, giraffe figurines, Garfield comics, first glasses, coin collection, notes, and so much more on other shelves. It was like a walk down memory lane as I dusted each section for him. Sure he has trash and food stashed throughout, but that didn't bother him much. I saw my kid for who he is collectively right then and not the person who is jaded from the harsh realities of our world. I saw the person I raised for the last 18 years, and I wondered just how much I did right along the way.
Then I found it. I found the journal pages for his senior leadership class. Inside the notebook was the reflection he answered himself. As I read the thoughts he jotted down, I saw the words I had said to him on that paper. Part of me awoke to the truth we always hear but often ignore. My words mattered. I pray that all the times I said wrong words, those do not stand out as much as the ones I actually got right. I also am inclined to try very much to keep that moment at the forefront of my mind when he gets back, and the going gets tough again.
Life happens, and a day rolls into night and day again. Then BOOM, I am hit again. Amid the disappointment of unmet expectations for Mother's Day, it happens. Littlest made me a gift at school since she was in 5th grade. I have just 1 more year to count on something thoughtful by a teacher to orchestrate. As she revealed in my appreciation, I honed in on one particular part, the section she referred to as extra. They all made the same items, except she made a heart with fingerprints stamped out of the sides just for me with the 'extra.' I love hearts, so immediately, I knew this was no haphazard coincidence. My sweet girl, the only one who snuggles with me just to be with me, made me something she especially knew I liked. I held back tears, thinking how this whole time, 4 days, I longed to be known by my family, and she finally got it right. My disappointment in the process from them all as they don't know me enough to do more than a generic gesture. How and when did this happen? When did I sacrifice so much of myself for them that I got lost? How do I get it back and, in the process, teach them to know the ones they love too? This is the thing I will likely reflect upon most in the coming days.
For starters, I wrote names down on papers of each of us (except Joey, who won't be home for 4 more days) and then distributed one per person. The goal is to show love and care secretly for the next 5 days, to not be caught in our kindness but to genuinely go out of our way to do so for a family member. Once a teacher, always a teacher, but I know that anger, frustration, and disappointment buried in relationships can only make things harder to restore. I pray that in doing so, I find the family atmosphere they someday will repeat in their homes. Wish me luck!
My birthday was last Thursday. No need for belated wishes; I genuinely dislike the lone statements that are typically included out of social politeness. Instead, I prefer genuine interest in a small conversation or sincere handwritten notes. But I digress.
I could go into a long rant about all the things that disappointed me, but instead, I choose to spend my time typing here focused on the 2 moments that shine brighter than all the stormy, dreary parts which made my heart ache. My oldest child is 18, graduating from high school in 6 days, and headed out on his senior mission trip at 1130 last Thursday, my birthday. It was tough emotionally because he didn't even give me a hug (mostly because he was engrossed in getting his stuff in order), and it was the first reality check of him leaving. He works most evenings, and I don't even say more than a few words to him some days because it is like ships passing in the night. However, it occurred to me he hasn't ever been gone except for youth camp 5 years ago. That leaving didn't feel like this. This time it felt so big, so much like a window into the future of him out of my house for good.
Before you feel sorry for me, remember I am choosing to talk about the highlights, the 2 moments that actually stand out in a way that makes me feel warm and fuzzy. So, Sat I am up way too early and taking the youngest to the barn. When I get back home, everyone is still asleep. So I begin cleaning Joey's room in my actual, never-sit still fashion. It is downstairs and easy to not wake others there, plus it seems like a blessing to him and me to deep clean the pizza smell (his job). As I do, I take note of the bookshelves he has collected the most neatly items from his life. I see the only boy scout boat he ever built, the mini radio/mp3 he took great pains to win out of a machine for G-ma, the collection of Star Wars memorabilia, the "perfect" shells and rocks he scavenged for hours on the beach to find. There are awards for honor roll, which he hasn't earned in years, giraffe figurines, Garfield comics, first glasses, coin collection, notes, and so much more on other shelves. It was like a walk down memory lane as I dusted each section for him. Sure he has trash and food stashed throughout, but that didn't bother him much. I saw my kid for who he is collectively right then and not the person who is jaded from the harsh realities of our world. I saw the person I raised for the last 18 years, and I wondered just how much I did right along the way.
Then I found it. I found the journal pages for his senior leadership class. Inside the notebook was the reflection he answered himself. As I read the thoughts he jotted down, I saw the words I had said to him on that paper. Part of me awoke to the truth we always hear but often ignore. My words mattered. I pray that all the times I said wrong words, those do not stand out as much as the ones I actually got right. I also am inclined to try very much to keep that moment at the forefront of my mind when he gets back, and the going gets tough again.
Life happens, and a day rolls into night and day again. Then BOOM, I am hit again. Amid the disappointment of unmet expectations for Mother's Day, it happens. Littlest made me a gift at school since she was in 5th grade. I have just 1 more year to count on something thoughtful by a teacher to orchestrate. As she revealed in my appreciation, I honed in on one particular part, the section she referred to as extra. They all made the same items, except she made a heart with fingerprints stamped out of the sides just for me with the 'extra.' I love hearts, so immediately, I knew this was no haphazard coincidence. My sweet girl, the only one who snuggles with me just to be with me, made me something she especially knew I liked. I held back tears, thinking how this whole time, 4 days, I longed to be known by my family, and she finally got it right. My disappointment in the process from them all as they don't know me enough to do more than a generic gesture. How and when did this happen? When did I sacrifice so much of myself for them that I got lost? How do I get it back and, in the process, teach them to know the ones they love too? This is the thing I will likely reflect upon most in the coming days.
For starters, I wrote names down on papers of each of us (except Joey, who won't be home for 4 more days) and then distributed one per person. The goal is to show love and care secretly for the next 5 days, to not be caught in our kindness but to genuinely go out of our way to do so for a family member. Once a teacher, always a teacher, but I know that anger, frustration, and disappointment buried in relationships can only make things harder to restore. I pray that in doing so, I find the family atmosphere they someday will repeat in their homes. Wish me luck!
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