Choices

The last time I talked to my mom was on June 2, 2006. She called me to get my sister's number to wish her a happy birthday. We had idle conversation about whether my sister had a child (she does), had a husband (she doesn't), if I had a husband (I do), if I had any kids (I do), what was my address (which I dictated to her while she wrote it down). My birthday followed that October, my 30th, factually, I was not happy about turning 3o; I was not hurt or saddened that I did not receive a phone call from my mother or a card in the mail.

More than four years prior, I had finally chosen to walk in forgiveness for the painful years of unmet expectations about what a mother should be, what she should or should not say, for what she had not taken responsibility, for lies and half-truths she had said, for not being what I needed her to be for me, and for anything that may happen in the future. I have very few fun, happy or loving memories of my dysfunctional relationship with her. She had chosen to live a life void of accountability, fullness or hope. I chose to not allow any of her future choices to pierce my heart. The bitterness I held toward her was gone. I no longer held her to any standard of expectation, so when a seldom phone call or card came, I talked with her, I read the card, but the hurt was gone, but at some point along that road, so was the opportunity for any vulnerable fellowship. At some point, my boundary for what was going to be healthy and acceptable for me did not include any intentional fellowship with her.

She had met Barrett for the first time when we ran into each other. She saw me in the parking lot of a Home Depot near my hometown and approached us as we were walking into the store. He and I had been dating for almost a year.

The next time I saw her, about 18 months later, I had taken Barrett with me to visit her at her work unannounced because of an alarming phone message my sister had received from one of my mom's coworkers about an incident that happened my mom's second husband. Since my sister hadn't spoken with my mother in almost ten years, I made a choice to go check on her. We walked in and she approached us, asking if she could help us with something...
"It's me." I said.
"Can I help you with something?" she said again to the couple she saw standing at the entrance.
"Mom, it's Melanie, your daughter."
Watching her jostle her memory as if coming out of a stupor or trance, I could almost hear the gears of her mind creaking to put it together, when her mouth opened I thought for a brief moment that a receipt was going to print out.
"Oh," as she studied my face, "your hair is darker than I'm used to," she said, not sure what to do next.
At that point I was married and just a few months pregnant, she didn't notice my rings and I did not tell her that her third grandchild would be born, she hadn't even seen the first two, my nieces. Emotionally, she was all over the place. Jibber-jabbering one moment, crying the next, interjecting that Barrett "looked like Dale"- What?! Dale who? - "Dale, Jr." (my mom watched NASCAR? something you'd think a 28-year-old daughter would surely know about own mother). We walked her to her car, made small talk, made sure she had my contact info once more.

I didn't hear from her again until that day in June, her calling to wish my sis a happy birthday.

My mom gave birth to four daughters, three of which are living, fellowship with none.

Sometimes I wonder if she regrets having chosen her self-imposed victimization over seeking healing, taking responsibility and making amends. I haven't given up on the idea that it could happen, but regardless, those lost years, she'll never be able to get those back. She didn't see me walk down the isle, never held a newborn grandchild, never heard them call her grandma, she has never even seen my boys beautiful faces.

I choose to walk in forgiveness towards my mom.

The Truth of It All

This is where it begins, the stop-light on the corner of N Tarrant and HWY 377.  My heart begins to quicken as we make the right turn to head south on 377 towards SuperTarget (A).  Not New Bursey Road, not the turn in between CVS and Chick-Fil-A, my heartbeat is picking up pace and beginning to ignite other physiological reactions of anxiety... not even the one between Chick-Fil-A and Burger King (COME ON!! I am screaming in my head), now passing Chili's, he's going to pass it altogether, does he even know where he is going??  I am outright clenching, toes, fists, jaw... probably my *cheeks* since they are now lifting off the seat while my head is reeling with the question of if he is even noticing what is going on or if he is totally oblivious to the driving laws of efficiency.  He is going to take the last possible entrance (then I realize there is one more a bit further past SmoothieKing, surely he won't go that far??)

This is the rhetoric that went through my head every time Barrett was driving us to Target, usually ending in me being obviously agitated and Barrett being confused about my disposition... what just happened??  Why couldn't I just voice it, because deep down, I knew it wasn't right, I wasn't right, but was he right for not taking the entrance that I would have taken??  

After numerous visits of frustration or "verbal direction" as to where the SuperTarget is located, I finally just started talking it through.  "Barrett, every time we come here, I have so much anxiety about which entrance you are going to take or if you are going to pass it altogether [he nearly did once while telling me a story... I verbally responded out of my anxiety and was followed by Whittaker shouting "Oh Sh*t!" from the backseat... I don't know where he learned that :) ]  I don't know why it bothers me so much, but it has and I just need to confess that to you and I need to reconcile that this is the entrance that you prefer to take, regardless if it is the one I would take based on the time of day and traffic.  I am sorry that it has been a big deal, that I have made it a big deal."

In subsequent visits, I have to again confess my anxious thoughts and remember that it is OK, that I know what entrance he will take and it isn't a big deal, even though I still experience the same physiological reaction that can only be calmed by rational thought and assurance.  Barrett has reassured me, and has even chosen to take an earlier turn just to make my heart happy... and it did, but not just because of the turn, but because he was choosing to reassure me that he listened, that he knows my heart and that he was willing to make a compromise just for the sake of pleasing me based on information he would have never known otherwise if I hadn't just broken down and confessed my crazy obsession.  

The truth of it all... they'll never know unless you can responsibly communicate your expectations, not crazy outbursts or worse, silent flustering followed by a "nothings wrong" statement.  That doesn't mean my expectations will always be met, but it does give an insight to the one who I truly desire to know me like the Lord knows me.  The Lord knows my every thought and desire, but still the communication I have with Him (speaking and listening) allows our relationship to flourish.  I find that as I do the same with Barrett and he with me, we begin to willingly meet expectations and offer compassion knowing when they weren't met.  Each time it happens, we choose to take another step closer to building a better relationship rather than standing our ground and creating more distance between us.  And, because honestly "For Better or For Worse" is too often in the choices we make.

Sonic Drive-In, Not Drive-Thru...

Ok, so I have to get on one of the most annoying things ever!
There are a handful on Sonic Drive-Ins that also now have a drive-thru window. Logically, this would be for those on a quick run through for simple beverages only...otherwise you would just park in a stall and order your burgers and fries and ice cream treats all made fresh (they are not sitting there under heat lamps people)! I find myself getting so extremely frustrated when, like last night, we are on our way home and I would love to have a just a water with some heavenly Sonic ice (one of my pregnancy musts!)...just a large water...when we ended up waiting 15 minutes for the two, yes 2!, cars in front of us who are ordering major food orders at 10 o'clock at night...and all the stalls are empty!!!! Are they going to get it any quicker because the carhop isn't going to walk 5 yards to their car?? No, they just aren't thinking...why did they put the drive-thru there?? Now why Sonic has a full menu on the drive-thru, I do not know...I guess corporate Sonic isn't a pregnant ice addict. Just blowing some steam!