Who Moved My Groove?

Posts Tagged ‘sisterhood

I am crying.

Not sobbing. Just sitting on my couch with my laptop while big, fat tears flow down my cheeks. Drip. Drop. Drip. Drop.

Why tears? Not tears of joy. Not tears of sadness. Leaky emotions, I think.

As I sit here, I’m thinking about the unexpected kindness of a stranger. I don’t know her name, and she’ll never know how much her gentle words of encouragement touched my heart.

It has been a frustrating few days. I’ve spent a lot of time cleaning up messes of epic proportions (see previous post for details), wrangling a shrieking toddler, separating two boys who share the same DNA but refuse to share with each other, and trying to enact positive changes in my own life. It’s the last item that makes me feel like my skin has been sheared off, and I’ve been dipped in vinegar. I’m trying so hard to find a little piece of life I can call my own. I turn left. DEAD END. I turn right. DEAD END. My wise friend says there is always a third way, so I try to go up and out of this impossible box. DENIED.

It feels like I’m being pulled in a million directions for hours and hours and hours and hours. Cook, clean, care give, lather, rinse, repeat. There is no end in sight and no help to be had.

Which brings me to Toys “R” Us. After a treasure hunt worthy of Indiana Jones (hey, Toys “R” Us, might want to work on that customer service thing), I finally had my item in hand, and the baby and I were waiting in line. Baby has Houdini-esque skills when it comes to any type of constricting contraption and had managed to wiggle free of the stroller/cart. Off came the shoes, up she went in my arms and then…she ATTEMPTED to RAPPELL from the top of my head to the tile floor using only my jacket strings for support.

The line was six people deep and moving slow. I was sweating trying to contain her. She was flopping around like a suffocating fish and executing, what can only be described as round-off back handsprings, using my collarbones as leverage.

It was then that I turned around, and saw “her” watching us. My angel.

She was tall, maybe 70 years old or so, with warm green eyes, rosy cheeks and the hint of a smile. She said, “It’s not easy is it?”

I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded.

She continued, “I had five children in six years. Three boys and two girls. It was hard work. I remember. I sure do. Everything is about them right now, but your time will come. You’ll look back at this time in a good way.”

I couldn’t even respond. I was speechless that someone who didn’t know me could be so… nice.  She “got” it. She used her life’s experiences to make me feel better at that moment. Instead of turning around and facing judgement and disgust there was motherly love. It was an unexpected gift.

Perhaps this is why I cry. Because today I looked back and saw the possibility of a way forward.



July 2018
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