Sometimes there are things that happen in my life that I have to sit with for awhile. I have to mull them over and really get a clear idea of how to move forward. I have learned that the greatest lesson time gives you is perspective. What we think is so horrible in the moment turns out isn't so bad when we look back at it. We don't see the lessons that present themselves until they have been taught. I would like to say that I have learned all those lessons but I know I have not. I was once very hard on myself, thinking that I was on my own. I felt as if this delicate balance of life was kept by my shaking hands alone. So I made a lot of hard choices. I took a lot of hard roads. I ate a lot of dirt along the way. And I learned the power of my words, how to use them and when to hold them back. I've said things in my life that there is no excuse for and time has taught me words spewed in heat only burn, just burn. No resolution is ever really made by them. I've had a bit of a rough time lately, not knowing if the decisions I have made or was making were necessarily the right ones. I've been questioned by someone I thought better of and I took a big hit by some words were spoken. I've had to step back, think things over, and come to terms that maybe the great balance I thought I had was but a farce. And you know what? That is OK because I think for once I understand I'm content with shutting my mouth and listening to what the world is trying to teach me right now. I started to take note of how I once handled myself in the past, trying so hard to take care of everyone in my life while letting my own ambitions fall to the side. I guess the older I get, the more experiences I have backlogged, the more moments I have to take from. I see how hurtful I was there so I can adjust that behavior. I understand how dire something felt years ago but when I really look at it? It wasn't so bad.
You know when I was a kid I really thought I had it rough. I saw all the toys, gadgets, trips that my friends took. I walked into their giant houses with their 4 cars and bonus rooms and newest electronic devices. I compared all of that to my own humble house, my hand me down jeans, my used toys. I thought we were poor. I remember being in second grade and this little boy told me that Santa Claus wasn't real. I got so infuriated by him that I punched him. I honestly don't know why it made me as angry as it did but I sure was mad. I remember telling him that there was no way Santa was fake because my parents were poor and there is no way they could afford the gifts that me and my siblings got every year. And when I look back at those moments now? What I really see are two incredibly hard working people that loved their children enough to sacrifice their own dreams, goals, sometimes well being so that we had presents to open Christmas morning. What I remember are the home cooked meals my mother made 6 of us every night after working a full time job. What I see are the cookies that she stayed up all night making for our bake sales, the holes in our pants that spent sewing, her face sitting in that front row being our biggest fans. Perspective. It's such a funny thing. I don't know why we are so blind in the moment, why it takes us years to realize how much someone else suffered for our happiness. I look at my mother now in a completely different light and I hold my father's memory that much closer. Whatever faults they had as parents don't really matter because every single one of their decisions were made out of love. I get that now.
So I take all of those thoughts, the struggling thoughts I had with my parents growing up, and I try to give my own daughter the benefit of the doubt. Every time she goes on the attack, I try to say she doesn't have enough moments yet. She doesn't understand yet. She isn't old enough to appreciate the sacrifices that my husband and I have made to show us any compassion. Some words were said this week. Some really hurtful words. She talked about how horrible her childhood was and it stung. Sure, it wasn't all peaches and cream but looking back? I was a single mother doing the best I could. And if I compare it to other single parents' plights? Our road really wasn't that rough. I won't discount how difficult it was for me to keep all my ducks in a row but she never suffered any of that. We had a roof over our head. We had food in our bellies. She had a room full of toys that I couldn't afford. I put her first every time, every time. But, as teenagers do, this beautiful child of mine says words that she doesn't understand the meaning. And, if I am being honest, there was a lot of damage done. So, I'm trying to step back, mull it over, put the hurt aside and be her mother because no matter what I am her mother. And there is a lesson in here that one day I will look back and understand.
I never truly realized how difficult being a parent was going to be. Before I got pregnant, I saw fun walks in the park with my cute baby and naps on the couch and big baby laughs. I didn't think that years later she would be so mad at me for having her in the first place but that is where we are. I remember her being small, the joy that little girl brought me, how I couldn't wait to feel her tiny arms wrapped around my neck. It was the greatest feeling getting off work and picking her up from daycare where she would run to me and jump into my arms. I still hear her silly little songs that she would sing from her car seat. I still feel the way she looked at me like I was this strong, amazing champion who could do anything. I look back at that time in our lives and I don't see my struggle. I don't see the bills that piled up or the frozen chicken dinners or the nights crying on the kitchen floor with my only companion my sweet puppy Sherra. All I see is the young kid that I was making it with a baby on her hip and it wasn't so bad. But I look at the now. I see the way she flares, the way she accuses, the way she looks at me. I hear these words of how selfish I was to have her, how blind I was, how I have never sacrificed anything for her, how I am a failure because my life hasn't quite fused together completely. Words. Words that can't be taken back. Words that are now out there and I have to take a step back. I have to find a strength to turn my cheek once more because I know she doesn't see, doesn't understand. She doesn't have enough moments yet to look back at and grasp the gravity of her own actions.
Are any of these words true? I failed at times. I cannot deny that. What I can honestly say is that whatever decisions I made, I made out of love. And looking back, I know that was what life was trying to teach me. Love. So, I will take a second and catch my breath. I will let these new wounds turn to scars. And, as always, I will move forward with love. I am her mother. That will never change. She has always made me a better person even at her worst. I have always found this strength inside of me because of her. These teenage years have taught me certainly that much. I may have to approach things differently for a little while. I may not be so quick to kiss her scrapes and make it all better. Her scrapes are her own now. If these words speak anything now it is that there has to be a line between being her friend and being her mother, a line that has always been gray with us. I don't regret that though. We've had some truly sincere, beautiful conversations. If it did any damage, I guess I'll take the consequences. I was the adult. I was still learning how to be that. Yesterday wasn't perfect but it was a lovely experience, moments that I now have in my pocket to learn from. So, that's what I'll do. Learn. And maybe along the way, she'll pick a lesson or two as well.