Sunday, March 02, 2008

Hanging In There with Hope


I pushed my cart through a department store in the next town over this afternoon. Sappy sentimental music played and whisked me back to years ago and those very same aisles.

Sheesh. Back then, I'd try not to cry in the toy aisle because they'd remind me of a once-young Naomi standing there gazing up at Barbie and all those My Little Ponies and Mapletown rodents...

... or else I'd be missing (with an ache) the friends I'd freshly left behind in Nevada...

... or I'd be feeling insecure about my clothes or hair or face or (fill in the blank)...

... or I'd be regretting some idiocy from my far-far-away past...

... or wishing my life or house (or its decor) were different (and that I had money to switch them)...

... or I'd (again) be near tears, dreading the time Naomi would fly from the nest I'd spent years creating for the three of us...

... or I'd worry about Tom's health and its affect upon our future...

Sigh. Those s.s. (sappy sentimental) songs shouldn't be allowed to play in department stores. heh.

But you know? Today I walked those same aisles and I didn't cry. There was no regretting, no worrying, no wishing things were changed. I was homesick for no one. I didn't crave a different house or Life and I was happy for Naomi that she's out on her own and learning so very much. I was glad I'd been a mother of a tiny, sweet girl and I was equally grateful to be the mom of a grown-up sweet woman.

And I smiled. I told myself, "I feel all healed-up! Complete. Contented."

Not perfected--just healed. Fixed. Repaired.

I thanked God for His enormous part in all that (and ok... got a bit teary-eyed. Those darn s.s. songs...). I was glad both He and I didn't give up on me... glad I hung in there during the times satan screamed for me to just give-up and quit and accept that I was the way I was.

But giving-up is not God's way. Today I am so not the way I was. Thank God.

2 comments:

Hilmarose said...

What a wonderful post!

daisydreamer said...

I was reminded of all the times I referred to this or that as a "phase" the girls were going through. Life is full of phases. Even for us. And perhaps we don't "outgrow them" as much as we grow into them.

Thanks for the pondering material.