"When you start dating again, tell me this time.", Gabe declared as we got in our car at the grocery store lot. "I will", I responded."You are older now and can understand better". He is 3 years older, in fact, than when I started dating following my divorce from his dad. It's between two years since he met C. It's been two days since I told Gabe C and I were no longer dating.
Gabe's moving much faster on the idea of mommy dating again than mommy.
Gabe went on. "And this time date someone tall....that'd be awesome....and fun. yeah, I can tell my friends this is my dad and they'll be like whoah.". I asked him what fun was....and he said "he'll take me to the movies when I get an A+ and energetic". Gabe's come a long way in 2 years. There's something in this mommy dating thing for him too, and that's a good thing. C is a good man, but aside from the heighth requirement, Gabe's list betrays C's weaknesses. He didn't have a lot of energy at times and didn't believe in external rewards for grades.
While I recognize that Gabe's list betrays his own perspective and needs, he reminds me that I even though the end of this relationship is a big disaapointment it isn't the end of the story on my finding someone with whom to grow old. Even though I'm not yet ready, perhaps I can begin to hope and even to begin my list. Knowing that Gabe believes now that mommy will date someone means that he is less afraid of losing me, more confident in my deep and undisplacable love for him is comforting. I count that a wonderful sign that he's weathered my first post-marriage relationship rather well. His reminder that there will be someone else for me...someone that fulfills mine and his deep needs...is pure gift.
Wednesday, March 16, 2011
Sunday, October 17, 2010
Another lesson on being attentive
My son stops cold each time we pass a face of a missing child. He has for some time. I don't recall the first photo he asked about, but I recall the panic I experienced the first time he asked about a missing child. How could I explain to him that other children have just gone missing? Even trying to explain required that I consider the traumatic reality that he could be the one missing. Explaining at any level sparked his realization that he lives in a world where kids like him go missing. The walls we build to block out potential trauma in our lives are torn down answering questions like these.
Gabe finds these photos everywhere. The pizza place has a missing child's face on a candy bin where you can drop in a quarter and get a tootsie roll. A similar notice and candy bin is at my hairdressers. The milk cartons. The signs in the grocery store. Everywhere. Too many lost children.
I walk past these pictures most often without even noticing. I've built strong walls; it's easier to be numb than to ponder the depth of such deep losses. Gabe asks few questions when he sees these notices now. I could learn something from his ability to just live with the questions. He simply stops and looks with a deep compassion at each photo. He notices the age when the child has gone missing. He calculates how old the child is today. When we go to our regular places...he heads toward the notices he has seen many times before.
One time Gabe looked at a notice and said, "Mom, this one is still missing". I was struck by my own lack of hope that a missing child would ever be found and yet it was his sincere expectation. Another time he said "look mom....she was found!" and sure enough, there was a notice that a formerly missing child had been found. That's why these notices are around...because in some cases they work. They work because people notice and believe in hope against hope.
Gabe gives these deep losses and amazing occasions for celebration the attention they are due. He pays attention to loss, to joy, to reality, to miracles. And to his lead, I intend to pay attention.
Gabe finds these photos everywhere. The pizza place has a missing child's face on a candy bin where you can drop in a quarter and get a tootsie roll. A similar notice and candy bin is at my hairdressers. The milk cartons. The signs in the grocery store. Everywhere. Too many lost children.
I walk past these pictures most often without even noticing. I've built strong walls; it's easier to be numb than to ponder the depth of such deep losses. Gabe asks few questions when he sees these notices now. I could learn something from his ability to just live with the questions. He simply stops and looks with a deep compassion at each photo. He notices the age when the child has gone missing. He calculates how old the child is today. When we go to our regular places...he heads toward the notices he has seen many times before.
One time Gabe looked at a notice and said, "Mom, this one is still missing". I was struck by my own lack of hope that a missing child would ever be found and yet it was his sincere expectation. Another time he said "look mom....she was found!" and sure enough, there was a notice that a formerly missing child had been found. That's why these notices are around...because in some cases they work. They work because people notice and believe in hope against hope.
Gabe gives these deep losses and amazing occasions for celebration the attention they are due. He pays attention to loss, to joy, to reality, to miracles. And to his lead, I intend to pay attention.
Tuesday, October 12, 2010
Being Attentive
Today I drove a 1988 BMW convertible. Its historical place obvious in its design. I noticed immediately the bright red line at 55 on the speedometer and the absence of cup holders. The German engineers, I was told, held out a long time before including cup holders in their designs. They firmly believed driving to be its own work....the automobile deserves its rightful attention. I try to imagine a time when driving was about the journey not the destination.
There is no red line on my Accord speedometer, and the days of 55 as the limit for speed are largely gone. We not only have cup holders in our vehicles but also but thermal coffee mugs designed to fit them. The BMW engineers finally capitulated to the market....putting holders in the cars against their will. (The good guys don’t often win when the driving force is consumerism).
Driving is now something that “happens” while we consume a value meal on the way to soccer practice. For longer drives, our vehicles are equipped with DVD players so children can pass the time on the road rather than giving the journey its due.
The reality is we spend most of our lives journeying...far more than we do arriving. We even, sadly, construct our lives in a manner that ignores the significance of the journey. We celebrate the new job but not the multitude of opportunities to grow in our current work. We dance at the wedding but neglect to celebrate the daily milestones that make up a marriage.
Those German engineers were on to something. Life is its own work and deserving of our full attention.
There is no red line on my Accord speedometer, and the days of 55 as the limit for speed are largely gone. We not only have cup holders in our vehicles but also but thermal coffee mugs designed to fit them. The BMW engineers finally capitulated to the market....putting holders in the cars against their will. (The good guys don’t often win when the driving force is consumerism).
Driving is now something that “happens” while we consume a value meal on the way to soccer practice. For longer drives, our vehicles are equipped with DVD players so children can pass the time on the road rather than giving the journey its due.
The reality is we spend most of our lives journeying...far more than we do arriving. We even, sadly, construct our lives in a manner that ignores the significance of the journey. We celebrate the new job but not the multitude of opportunities to grow in our current work. We dance at the wedding but neglect to celebrate the daily milestones that make up a marriage.
Those German engineers were on to something. Life is its own work and deserving of our full attention.
Friday, October 8, 2010
Agent of Rescue
Mary Karr, in the third memoir of her personal narrative trilogy titled Lit, credits her son with saving her life. She was on the path to personal destruction...depression, alcoholism...and the image of her son's life in light of her choices caused her to change. She's apologetic for the pain she caused him on her path to healing, saying, "because of you, I couldn't die and couldn't monster myself, either. So you were the agent of my rescue--not a good job for somebody three feet tall." (p. 5). Her son, dev, was "barely four" when Karr's marriage and mental health simultaneously unraveled. Yes, being the agent of a parent's rescue is no job for a pre-schooler...or anyone.
And yet, I know exactly what that means....for "agent of rescue" fits perfectly the situation with my own son. My young hero, also about 4 at the time at the time of my divorce, was the source of my survival, my motivation for choosing grace over bitterness. Even now I understand why bitterness is the more prevalent route. Motherhood reminded me why the tougher road mattered; without him, I imagine grace may not have won the day.
And it is Gabe, now 9 1/2, who continues to be the agent of my rescue. Divorce is not a clean equation when it comes to forgiveness. There is no once and done; the wrongs just keep comin. Even wrongs contained in the past take on new significance in light of the present. I choose grace because that's what's good for Gabe, and that goodness reflects back on my own healing and renewal.
Maybe it's not so bad for a child to be the agent of a parent's rescue. I'm not suggesting that parents place the weight of the world on their children's shoulders. I am suggesting that we give credit where credit is due...even to pint-size packages. In this life, the fullness of God's truth comes to us in unexpected ways...the upside-down kingdom is at work, and sometimes a little child shall lead them.
And yet, I know exactly what that means....for "agent of rescue" fits perfectly the situation with my own son. My young hero, also about 4 at the time at the time of my divorce, was the source of my survival, my motivation for choosing grace over bitterness. Even now I understand why bitterness is the more prevalent route. Motherhood reminded me why the tougher road mattered; without him, I imagine grace may not have won the day.
And it is Gabe, now 9 1/2, who continues to be the agent of my rescue. Divorce is not a clean equation when it comes to forgiveness. There is no once and done; the wrongs just keep comin. Even wrongs contained in the past take on new significance in light of the present. I choose grace because that's what's good for Gabe, and that goodness reflects back on my own healing and renewal.
Maybe it's not so bad for a child to be the agent of a parent's rescue. I'm not suggesting that parents place the weight of the world on their children's shoulders. I am suggesting that we give credit where credit is due...even to pint-size packages. In this life, the fullness of God's truth comes to us in unexpected ways...the upside-down kingdom is at work, and sometimes a little child shall lead them.
Monday, April 5, 2010
Dating and Children
"You have too much make-up on your eyes", he says as she descends the stairs to greet her boyfriend.
The couple sits alone on the porch: NO KISSING!!!!, speaks his body language as he leaps through the front door yelling "Surprise!!".
The couple sits in a private space in the home hoping to converse: DON'T FORGET I'M YOUR GUARDIAN, he seems to say as he sits close, hovering, thereby preventing intimate-speak.
Yes, guardians can be ever so obvious in overprotecting their loved ones, hoping perhaps to keep them closer in the midst of their reaching out to love of a different sort.
It's particularly obvious when the guardian is an 8 year old watching ever so closely over his mom's interactions with her significant other. Seriously, my son watches me and Craig like a hawk. Surprise leaps...intentionally hovering. He seriously critiqued my eye makeup on Saturday.
Gabe knows what he is doing; I know what he is doing; I don't know that he knows that I know what he is doing.
Good news for Gabe. I'm keeping detailed notes for when he starts dating.
The couple sits alone on the porch: NO KISSING!!!!, speaks his body language as he leaps through the front door yelling "Surprise!!".
The couple sits in a private space in the home hoping to converse: DON'T FORGET I'M YOUR GUARDIAN, he seems to say as he sits close, hovering, thereby preventing intimate-speak.
Yes, guardians can be ever so obvious in overprotecting their loved ones, hoping perhaps to keep them closer in the midst of their reaching out to love of a different sort.
It's particularly obvious when the guardian is an 8 year old watching ever so closely over his mom's interactions with her significant other. Seriously, my son watches me and Craig like a hawk. Surprise leaps...intentionally hovering. He seriously critiqued my eye makeup on Saturday.
Gabe knows what he is doing; I know what he is doing; I don't know that he knows that I know what he is doing.
Good news for Gabe. I'm keeping detailed notes for when he starts dating.
Saturday, April 3, 2010
Warning Labels
I opened up a package of Chilean Sea Bass this morning. On the package was a sticker: Allergen Warning: Contains Fish. I wondered what this world has come to that Wegman's feels compelled to warn the consumer that a package of fish contains fish. Imagine.
And then I wished for a world, at least momentarily, where warning signs state what at least on the surface is obvious.
Relationship: Warning, this package contains conflict.
Profession: Warning, this package contains uncertainty.
Parenthood: Warning, this package has challenges.
It's not a direct parallel. Allergens to conflict, uncertainty, and challenge are not life-threatening. Naming their inclusion rarely offers an anti-dote to lawsuits.
Still, sometimes I just wish life came with warning stickers. You?
And then I wished for a world, at least momentarily, where warning signs state what at least on the surface is obvious.
Relationship: Warning, this package contains conflict.
Profession: Warning, this package contains uncertainty.
Parenthood: Warning, this package has challenges.
It's not a direct parallel. Allergens to conflict, uncertainty, and challenge are not life-threatening. Naming their inclusion rarely offers an anti-dote to lawsuits.
Still, sometimes I just wish life came with warning stickers. You?
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