What is it like for a middle-aged woman who devoted the last fifteen years of her life to raising her children to happen, in her dusty, cat-litter-scented garage, upon box after box filled with the klediments of her high school, college and grad school life? It is a curious, cringing thing to remember the hope-filled, ambitious student I was. To read a diary entry excitedly recounting the fact that I had been tapped to be a news anchor for Youth Legislature at the capital in Montgomery, Alabama. To read a note from my dad in my college scrapbook telling me he was proud of my election to Who's Who and knew I was bound for great things. To see my master's research project notes associated with my internship at WTVJ-NBC in Miami, an internship laced with celebrities. To see the program from the news Emmys I attended while a graduate student intern, sitting at the table next to David Bloom, who later became a famous network reporter. To see boxes of papers I wrote. And, for this out-of-shape lady, even the two trophies from placing in my age category in 5K races, made me sad. What have I become, I pondered. More importantly, what have I NOT become?
Distraught, I did two things that ALWAYS help. I cried and I called my sister. "After all of that work and all of those wonderful opportunities, I sailed straight out and did....NOTHING," I said to my sister. "No, that is not true. You started a family," she said, in that decisive way that makes Mary the wonderful encourager that she is, even though she is eight years younger than me.
I have always been an all-or-nothing person. I was going to be all-in for my children, present for everything. They were always going to have me when they needed someone. Well, guess what? I have not been the perfect parent. There are many times I have let them down. AND I did not pursue a career. Combing through the detritus of my early life made me sad. I had hoped for so many things that I did not pursue once my first child came along and, truth be told, even earlier than that. When I got married, out the window went the idea that I could fan resumes out throughout the country and just go where the winds of opportunity sent me. I read something interesting in Charles Kuralt's biography, something that has stuck with me for many, many years. It has given me comfort over the years and tonight, as I reflect on my choices, it warms me still. He said that he had had incredible opportunities in life (and he obviously enjoyed amazing career success and fascinating, very fulfilling work), but that he had never, due to the nature of his work, been able to enjoy the pleasures of home and hearth.
The pleasures of home and hearth, i.e. the joy of being at home with my family in sickness and in health, in the fiery trials of homework and the bliss of playing with our pets, have been my mainstay. I would not trade them for fame, fortune, or a portfolio of accomplishments. I would not.
I love my children. Whether or not I have served them as I should have as a mother, I have been here and I have seen every phase of their lives up close and personal. I will remember it all.
I guess I will close with the following thought: if you have a few regrets, as I do (Could I have shucked the all-or-nothing attitude and enjoyed a dim light of professional accomplishments while still enjoying parenting?) you may as well lay them aside. Ask God to help you to remember your past accomplishments and exciting memories with joy and thankfulness. Forgive yourself for anything you failed to do and, most importantly, remember that your story isn't over. Ask God to help you to write the final chapters in the light of His grace, His love, His infinite mercy. Ask Him to help you embrace your current reality, creatively shaping it into the richest, fullest expression of who you are intrinsically and, most importantly, who you CAN be in Him. You only have today! Live it well!
Distraught, I did two things that ALWAYS help. I cried and I called my sister. "After all of that work and all of those wonderful opportunities, I sailed straight out and did....NOTHING," I said to my sister. "No, that is not true. You started a family," she said, in that decisive way that makes Mary the wonderful encourager that she is, even though she is eight years younger than me.
I have always been an all-or-nothing person. I was going to be all-in for my children, present for everything. They were always going to have me when they needed someone. Well, guess what? I have not been the perfect parent. There are many times I have let them down. AND I did not pursue a career. Combing through the detritus of my early life made me sad. I had hoped for so many things that I did not pursue once my first child came along and, truth be told, even earlier than that. When I got married, out the window went the idea that I could fan resumes out throughout the country and just go where the winds of opportunity sent me. I read something interesting in Charles Kuralt's biography, something that has stuck with me for many, many years. It has given me comfort over the years and tonight, as I reflect on my choices, it warms me still. He said that he had had incredible opportunities in life (and he obviously enjoyed amazing career success and fascinating, very fulfilling work), but that he had never, due to the nature of his work, been able to enjoy the pleasures of home and hearth.
The pleasures of home and hearth, i.e. the joy of being at home with my family in sickness and in health, in the fiery trials of homework and the bliss of playing with our pets, have been my mainstay. I would not trade them for fame, fortune, or a portfolio of accomplishments. I would not.
I love my children. Whether or not I have served them as I should have as a mother, I have been here and I have seen every phase of their lives up close and personal. I will remember it all.
I guess I will close with the following thought: if you have a few regrets, as I do (Could I have shucked the all-or-nothing attitude and enjoyed a dim light of professional accomplishments while still enjoying parenting?) you may as well lay them aside. Ask God to help you to remember your past accomplishments and exciting memories with joy and thankfulness. Forgive yourself for anything you failed to do and, most importantly, remember that your story isn't over. Ask God to help you to write the final chapters in the light of His grace, His love, His infinite mercy. Ask Him to help you embrace your current reality, creatively shaping it into the richest, fullest expression of who you are intrinsically and, most importantly, who you CAN be in Him. You only have today! Live it well!
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